Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 60

Isabelle teased, "Trying to seduce Mr. Cross."

The way she said the word "seduce" instantly painted a vivid, tempting picture in everyone's mind.

Isabelle and Eleanor burst out laughing at their workstations, clinking their coffee mugs together before taking a sip.

"Ahem..." A cough sounded from behind them.

Isabelle and Eleanor spun their chairs around to find Damian and Ashley walking toward them.

Brian, who was with them, shot Isabelle a meaningful look.

Ashley's face darkened, her jaw tightening. Damian, however, looked momentarily caught off guard, his usual inscrutable expression giving way to something noticeably more relaxed.

What's going on today? He has been to the design department more this morning than in the past month.

Sure, they joked about Damian all the time, but getting caught red-handed was a first.

No one said a word, pretending nothing had happened. Brian quickly ushered Ashley and Damian into the manager's office and closed the door.

"Mr. Cross heard you want to seduce him," Eleanor said, adding fuel to the fire.

Isabelle sighed, "I know."

Eleanor added, "And I felt Ms. Debose's murderous vibe. Trust me, once Mr. Cross leaves, you'll be the first one called into her office."

"It can't be that bad..." Isabelle smiled wryly.

After running into Ashley at Fashion Week, she thought that was the end of it. She never expected Ashley to be an employee at Damian's branch office.

Sure enough, after Brian and Damian left, Ashley called Isabelle into her office.

"Eleanor, you're a psychic!" Isabelle said helplessly.

"Good luck, Ms. Foster," Eleanor replied, patting her shoulder.

Ashley wore a white, V-neck bodycon dress that showed off her figure. Her hair was styled, and pearl earrings completed her polished look.

In contrast, Isabelle wore white sneakers, skinny jeans, and a light blue, off-shoulder sweater. The difference was clear: one was mature and sophisticated, the other fresh and casual.

Ashley swiveled slightly in her executive chair.

"Ms. Foster," she said.

They clearly heard what we said earlier. Is she really that unconcerned?

"How about you come work here? I'm not getting any younger. I can't keep this up forever." Theodore's meaning was clear; he wanted Isabelle to take over.

Isabelle was startled. The atelier had operated for decades with a stellar reputation. Even the city's elite struggled to get an order. Monthly profits were substantial, and they took clients on a whim.

Was Theodore really planning to hand this all over after just a couple of casual sentences?

"Theodore, is that coffee you're drinking spiked or something?" Isabelle pursed her lips, folded the clothes carefully, and placed them in a garment bag.

Theodore chuckled.

Isabelle had dinner with Theodore.

Before heading to Twilight Bar, she changed into a dress she had made herself.

It had an off-shoulder neckline that showed her collarbones, with a skirt styled with a high slit. Delicate clasps fastened the slit perfectly.

She put on the pearl necklace Theodore had given her—three pearls, one large between two smaller ones. Pearl drops hung from her ears. An air of graceful elegance settled over her.

She smoothed her hair and pinned it up with a simple clip.

When it came to department parties, the design and PR teams always knew how to have fun. By their standards, what Isabelle was wearing was still considered quite conservative.