Chapter 51: You're Not an Embarrassment

Abigail pursed her lips and gazed at Sean. She smirked. “Don’t say that about yourself. The whole team is praising you, and tons of women are vying for your attention. You’re not an embarrassment; you’re the prize everyone wants.”

He invested in the show and helped my grandma. There’s no need to cross him. Still, she was annoyed by Joan’s smug attitude, and she thought a sarcastic remark was warranted, considering Joan was still his wife.

Sean took off his pants in front of her. “Are you one of those women, then?”

“Hell no,” Abigail thought. She expected some shame, but he was brazen. Coolly, she said, “Whatever you say.”

Sean was prejudiced against her. Any mistake she made would be used to label her a whore, someone who would sleep with him for money. It was similar to how she was called a gold digger when she only wanted to marry him.

Abigail turned and ignored him. Holding a file, she pressed her ear to the door, hearing snippets of conversation from a couple of designers still chatting. It was annoying. It was late. Why hadn’t they gone to their rooms?

While she listened, Sean suddenly hugged her. Shocked, Abigail almost shouted but covered her mouth. Her design drafts fell to the ground, her heart racing.

Sean huddled closer, whispering coldly, “Don’t you get tired of playing hard to get?”

“Playing hard to get?” Abigail felt fury. She pushed against the door, trying to shove Sean away. “Once I am done with Grandma’s case—”

Her sentence was cut short by a kiss. Joan called from outside, “Are you asleep, Sean?”

Abigail’s heart squeezed, but Sean gave her a cryptic look and released her, confident she wouldn’t make a sound.

Her mind was in turmoil, but she was bothered by his look. She crouched, quickly picked up her drafts, shoved Sean away, and tiptoed into the bathroom.

Once the bathroom door closed, Sean put on his robe.

The phone rang. Seeing it was Joan, he answered gently, “What is it?”

“I heard you’ve come to the set. Are you in your room?” Joan purred.

Sean opened the door, still holding the phone. Joan smiled. “It’s late. I hope I’m not interrupting. It’s been a while.”

Leaning against the wall, Abigail listened, a smirk playing on her lips. I’m the wife, and I look like the mistress. This is ironic. That Sean is a bastard.

Joan looked at Sean affectionately. “You came all this way, this late? You could have come tomorrow. I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t called Cameron.”

Joan thought he was only there to support her. He’d prepared Ocean’s Heart and the manor; now he was there himself. Naturally, she assumed it was for her.

Sean only thought about Abigail, so he grunted in response.

Delighted, Joan blushed, but held herself back. “You’re so nice to me. You’re the best, Sean. I know you did a lot for me on this show, and I’ll do my best.”

Hearing Sean’s reply, Abigail clutched her drafts, her nails digging into her skin. She understood his look. He suspected she and Luna were working together, and wanted Joan to discover she was with him, asserting dominance.

Abigail took a long, calming sigh.

“It’s late, get some rest. The flight was tiring,” Sean said, his voice weary.

Abigail scoffed. He has enough money to boost his honeycakes to fame. Even if Joan doesn’t try, she can still become a star.

The passage has been cleaned up for grammar, punctuation, and flow. The use of asterisks to censor words has been removed as the context was clear. Some phrasing was slightly altered to improve the overall readability and naturalness of the dialogue.