Chapter 38
Every time Eliana finished using those pungent face masks, she could see her skin grow smoother and brighter. A small
jar lasted her quite a while.
Wealthy housewives stopped seeking expensive salon treatments and began asking what she was using. Eliana didn’t
really know. Even if she did, she wouldn’t want to share the secret.
A black Maybach glided down the road. In the back seat, Penelope nervously pressed her palms together. “Cal, what
should I say later? Dr. Conton…”
“You don’t need to worry so much. Dr. Conton is kind, and you’re talented. This will go well,” Caleb said gently. “Still,
he’s been retired for years. He might not want new students. Let’s just go and make a good impression. If it doesn’t work
out, we’ll consider other options.”
“But he accepted Sydney. I graduated from Jouleston University too. He won’t refuse me, right?” Penelope snapped.
She was a year ahead of Sydney and had worked hard to join under the famous Alan Conton. Yet Alan had rejected her,
only to take Sydney the next year before retiring. She couldn’t understand Sydney’s luck.
Caleb replied calmly, “Let’s just see how it goes.”
“Okay!” Penelope pressed her hand over his. “No matter what, Dr. Conton will respect you. Cal, I trust you.”
For her, this felt like a done deal. Alan’s reputation was solid, and with Caleb making the move, money would always
win.
Meanwhile, Sydney left after dinner. As always, Eliana walked her to the door and reminded her, “Walk carefully. Let me
know when you’re home.”
“Okay. You should go inside. It’s windy. Don’t want you getting a headache,” Sydney urged.
“I will.”
As Eliana went inside, Sydney turned and unexpectedly saw Caleb enter the compound, arm–in–arm with Penelope.
Their posture was intimate.
Hampton Corp. had medical ventures, so it wasn’t surprising they had professional questions for Alan.
The winter wind bit sharply, Sydney lowered her head and zipped up her jacket, trying to ignore them.
Then Caleb called her, “Sydney?”
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Chapter 38
The courtyard was dark, lit only by the yellow glow of a streetlamp. He couldn’t see her clearly.
Sydney paused, feigning surprise. “Cal. Why are you here?”
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At that moment, she thought the 700,000 dollars from her mother–in–law had not been wasted. She had played her part
well.
“That’s the question I should ask,” Caleb said softly, resting his large hand on her head. “You said you were busy. We never see you at home. Why are you here with Dr. Conton?”
Sydney hesitated, then made up an excuse. “Marcus asked me. There’s a patient at the clinic with a complicated
condition, and we didn’t want to risk it. So I came straight to ask Alan.”
“And now?” Caleb’s brow softened, and he coaxed her like a child. “Isn’t it time you went home? You should get in the
car. We’ll just head in to talk to Dr. Conton for a bit.”
A strange feeling settled in Sydney’s chest. She didn’t feel like Caleb’s wife but like their child–Caleb and Penelope’s
child. If she wanted, they could be a happy family of three. Four, if one counted Timothy, whom Sydney nearly forgot.
Perhaps the thought was so absurd she laughed softly to herself.
Looking up at Caleb, she put on an obedient smile. “Could I go straight home a bit later tonight? Tiff and I are having
dinner.”
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