Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 73

The group made casual plans to have dinner at the Grand Palace at eight o'clock that evening.

Isabelle found it hard to refuse their collective enthusiasm and eventually agreed.

For the rest of the games, she dialed back her competitiveness. She switched teams, partnering with Justin, and they traded points back and forth, keeping the scores close and the atmosphere friendly.

By six o'clock, everyone began to disperse, heading off to shower and change.

*****

7:00 PM, Cross Group Headquarters...

"Post-dinner treats, courtesy of Sweet Dreams Café!" Brian announced, carefully setting a large, elegant pastry box on the conference room table.

Everyone who had just finished their takeout meals turned to look.

Even Damian, who had been focused on a financial report, glanced over. The distinctive packaging and the familiar bakery name instantly brought a certain someone to mind.

"Compliments of Mrs. Cross. Don't be shy, dig in," Brian said as he opened the box. "What's everyone waiting for? Should I serve each of you personally?"

"Thank you, Mr. Cross! Thank you, Mrs. Cross!"

"Thank you, Mr. Cross! Thank you, Mrs. Cross!"

Damian was momentarily caught off guard by the chorus.

He picked up his phone and tapped open his chat with his wife.

No new messages.

Just then, Brian walked over and placed a precisely packaged individual dessert in front of him.

"Mr. Cross, yours is nine parts sweet."

"Why nine parts? Where's the last one?"

At twenty-eight, he's still completely out of touch with modern online memes.

Brian had to spell it out for him. "The last part is me—falling for you."

It took him a good minute to explain the contemporary rating joke.

Damian sent, "The dessert is excellent. Thank you."

Isabelle replied, "You're welcome."

Isabelle, fresh out of the shower, was sitting at her vanity reading his message. The screen persistently showed "Typing..." at the top.

Meanwhile, Damian was also staring at his phone, watching the same "Typing..." indicator.

In the end, neither sent a follow-up message.

It was enough to drive Brian, the silent observer, up the wall.

One was a man of few words, hopeless at expressing sentiment.

The other was stubbornly guarding her heart, resistant to believing in the possibility of being loved.

"Who is Mrs. Cross, anyway?"

"Haven't seen her around the office since we started."

"Mr. Cross has been wearing a wedding band for months now. Maybe it was a rushed, private affair?"

They enjoyed their sweet treats while happily chewing over the office gossip.

Damian overheard the whispers but didn't bother to respond.

*****

At the Grand Palace, Isabelle had just taken her seat when Lucas and Alaric smoothly, yet without seeming overtly deliberate, settled into the chairs on either side of her.

She felt a twinge of awkwardness, glancing at the two of them. The arrangement felt intentional.

The three others who entered after them all stared at this strangely configured trio.

Isabelle looked like a young queen flanked by two attentive guards in their dark, sharp attire. Add some sunglasses, and the picture would be complete.

Lucas had already pre-ordered, and dishes began arriving in quick succession.

"Ms. Foster, are you seeing anyone?" Alaric asked casually during a lull in the conversation.

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