Chapter 12

Yasmin took a deep breath. She didn't want to cause trouble for the firm, so she forced herself to maintain a professional smile. "Mr. Grant, nice to—" Before she could finish her sentence, Caleb had already looked away. With the arrogance of a powerful client, he didn't acknowledge her presence in the slightest. He simply strode past her, leading his executives down the hall without a second glance. Yasmin was stunned and cursed internally, "Asshole!" … The project team was still buzzing with excitement after unexpectedly meeting the CEO of Grant Group on their first day. The moment Caleb and his team were out of sight, the office exploded into chatter. "Holy shit! Did you see him? He's insanely handsome!" "And so young too! I wonder if he's single. He's exactly the type of man every woman dreams of." "Forget it. He's partnered." Yasmin's fingers froze over her keyboard. Her breath caught as she instinctively listened in. The one speaking was Karen Emerson, a stylish young woman who carried an LV bag to work every day. Coming from a business-owning family, she was always well-informed about corporate gossip. Karen lifted her chin smugly as if she had exclusive insider intel. "His partner is also a wealthy heiress. They grew up together. I think her name is Veronica." Veronica Whitmore? So, in this version of the story, Caleb's actual wife didn't even exist. Yasmin lowered her gaze. She wasn't sure whether to feel relieved… or humiliated. "So what if he has a girlfriend?" another intern chimed in. "Rich men aren't exactly known for being loyal. And did you see how he looked at Yasmin? She's gorgeous!" Why had the conversation suddenly turned to her? She quickly waved her hand dismissively. "Mr. Grant seems serious and rigid. He's not my type at all." "Pfft! As if you'd even have a chance!" Karen rolled her eyes. "He'd never go for someone like you." Yasmin was speechless. Well, yeah. They were literally getting divorced. Casually, she slid her wedding ring off and tucked it into her bag. No one noticed. Half an hour later, the legal team met with Grant Group's in-house counsel for their first project meeting. Just as they were about to begin, a tall, imposing figure stepped into the room. Warren Hoffman, the legal director, immediately shot up from his seat. "Mr. Grant? Why are you—" Harris stepped forward. "Mr. Grant will be sitting in on today's discussion." No further explanation was given. Yasmin was full of questions. Why the hell was he here? This was just a preliminary meeting, not a major decision-making session. He was the CEO, for goodness sake. Was he really that free? Thinking back to her colleagues' gossip earlier, she felt nothing but irritation. She didn't want to see Caleb at all! Fortunately, as an intern, she was seated at the farthest end of the table, as far from Caleb as possible. Caleb took the main seat, listening as Edward presented the project plan. He glanced at the documents in front of him. Then, suddenly, as if his hand slipped, his coffee spilled all over the papers. "Mr. Grant?" Warren tensed, assuming something was wrong with the report. Caleb, completely unfazed, wiped his hand and said in a slow, deliberate tone, "Get me a new copy." Warren was about to hand over his own set of documents when Caleb suddenly lifted his gaze, his sharp eyes locking onto the farthest corner of the room. "Ms. Whitmore, may I have yours?" Yasmin was dumbfounded. Being called out, she looked up, and for a second, she didn't mask the look on her face that seemed to say, "Caleb, what the hell is wrong with you?" She suspected that he did it on purpose, but she had no proof. As a member of the service provider's team, she could not openly go against their respectable client! "Mr. Grant, you sure have a great memory! I only mentioned Yasmin's name once this morning and you've already remembered her!" Edward immediately took the opportunity to flatter the client. Then, turning to Yasmin, he snapped, "What are you waiting for? Hand it over!" From Edward's perspective, Yasmin was just an intern. Whether she had her own set of documents or not didn't matter. She had no right to go against the client's wishes. She reluctantly stood up, smoothed out her emotions, and handed over her file with both hands. "Here you go, sir." As she passed the documents, his fingers brushed against hers. A tingling warmth shot up her arm, electrifying in a way that made her instinctively shudder. She snapped her gaze toward him, but Caleb was already looking at the documents again. It was as if what happened earlier was just an accident, something that he didn't even notice. Yasmin turned around and walked back to her seat. "Wait," Caleb spoke up suddenly. Yasmin was exasperated. "Oh, come the fuck on!" she cursed internally. "Ms. Whitmore," Caleb said casually, tapping a spot on the document. "What does this mean?" She turned around to look and noticed in the bottom right corner of the page was a doodle she had drawn earlier. It was a face rolling its eyes. Beside it, in tiny print, she had written, "MYOB." Yasmin wanted to die on the spot. Caleb rarely spent time surfing the internet and naturally didn't know a thing about such abbreviations. Yasmin, thinking fast, gave him a bright, innocent smile as she explained, "It means 'manifest your own blessings.'" Everyone in the room was dumbstruck. What the hell was that? Would someone as bright as Caleb, the CEO of Grant Group, need her explanation of MYOB? Warren stretched his neck, trying to peek at the paper, but Caleb moved it away before he could see anything. Everyone braced for impact. Surely, Caleb wouldn't let this slide? But he said nothing. Instead, his gaze lowered to her left hand, where her wedding ring should have been. It was gone. Yasmin could feel his eyes on her, but every time she glanced up, he wasn't looking at her. Of course, he wasn't. He never had feelings for her. After the meeting ended, Caleb casually pulled out his phone. He went online and searched for the term "MYOB". A second later, his brows twitched, then he laughed. … Back at the law firm's private office, Karen immediately pounced on Yasmin. "Yasmin! You know Mr. Grant, don't you?" "No," Yasmin denied it instantly. Karen narrowed her eyes. "Then why did he specifically ask you for the papers when there were so many people in the room?" "Probably because I'm an intern, the least important person in the room. Even if I don't have a copy, it won't affect the project," Yasmin said innocently. She then added, "If I did know him, there's no way Mr. Hoffman wouldn't have recognized me, right?" The group nodded. Her explanation made sense. Satisfied, Karen smirked. "Yasmin, you've heard about Sparkle, right? It's Grant Group's ultra-luxury jewelry brand. Their ambassador position is so exclusive that even A-list celebrities have to fight for the chance, but Mr. Grant gave the ambassadorship of the brand's latest collection to his girlfriend. So, you should drop any delusions you have about him."