Chapter 72
Seabay’s answer caught Celestine completely off guard.
It was nothing like what she’d expected.
She’d braced herself for the worst, even imagined elaborate conspiracies behind the
scenes.
Never in a million years did she think the truth would be so blunt, so obviously
biased in her favor.
After a long pause, Celestine finally managed to speak. “Thank you.”
Even if the gratitude was only for show, she would accept it.
Before hanging up, she made a promise. “I won’t let the brand down.”
The manager smiled as he ended the call, putting his phone down with the speaker still on.
He looked up at the man sitting at the head of the table. “Mr. Prescott, Miss Selwyn seems completely calm now. You can rest easy.”
The man’s icy gray eyes were half–closed, but he glanced over with a subtle lift of his lashes. “Good. I want you to personally oversee her project.”
“Yes, sir.”
The interview with Seabay was scheduled for three days later.
In preparation, Seabay sent someone ahead to coordinate with Celestine, going over the topics she’d be asked about.
Celestine spent time drafting her responses, making sure everything was perfect.
Both sides wanted this to go smoothly.
Seabay’s strong public support had nearly overturned the negative rumors floating
around online.
Celestine approached this collaboration with absolute seriousness.
She’d also made up her mind: after work, she would stop by the Fordham estate and take the marriage certificate that belonged to her alone.
If necessary, it would be her most powerful proof of the relationship between her
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Chapter 72
and Chester.
Flossie, who sat in the cubicle next to Celestine, was in unusually high spirits all
day.
She practically danced around Celestine’s desk, reading out the fickle comments
she found online.
“Joanna’s fans are still making excuses! Now they’re blaming the tabloids, saying Joanna and Chester have nothing to do with any of this. If our boss didn’t ban us from posting, I’d roast them alive!” Flossie ‘stabbed at her phone screen, as if she could poke holes through the nasty comments.
Celestine couldn’t help but smile. “Poor Flossie. Don’t worry, this will all blow over
soon.”
“I’m not suffering! Honestly, I’m enjoying the drama. Oh! Look at what the gossip mongers are saying now!”
Flossie’s smile vanished as she suddenly shot up in her seat.
“What’s wrong?”
Celestine looked up.
Her gaze landed on Flossie’s phone, where she saw Carmen’s latest Instagram post. **[CarmenV]: Lucky to witness the circus firsthand~ Some designers just love to chase clout and profit off others‘ misery. Mr. Fordhan ly invited her to the Fordham estate as a housekeeper–she’s just too greedy and asks for too much. I can’t watch this any longer! For the record, I stand by every
every word I say!**
After the disastrous morning meeting, Carmen had called in sick and left the office. No one expected her to post something so pointed on her own Instagram.
And that vague accusation-“asks for too much“-caught everyone’s attention.
Those in the know realized Carmen was accusing Celestine of purposely playing Chester for a monthly payout. Outsiders might assume she was after the title of
Mrs. Fordham.
Celestine’s eyes turned cold.
Carmen always played up her image as a fashion designer online, and her Instagram had nearly two hundred thousand followers.
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Chapter 72
Sure enough, the comment section was already filling up with fans eager to defend her.
**[Joanna&Chester]: Such a righteous queen! Beautiful inside and out! I knew that snake Celestine was anything but innocent! Now a coworker is calling her out–let’s see how she spins this!**
**[MintyFresh]: That woman’s trash, pure and simple. Even her own colleagues can’t stand her. How long can she keep up the act? Stop leeching off our queen and her family!**
**[Phoenix]: Seabay’s reputation is going down the drain because of designers like her. I’m sick of it.**
**[Lewis]: Just because you “witnessed” something doesn’t mean you can make things up. People have been used as pawns before, you know? Can the fans calm down for once? When the rumors flip, they’ll be up all night scrambling to clean up the mess–then they’ll just blame the tabloids. What a joke!**
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