Accidentally Crossing the Tycoon
Chapter 153
Audrey’s POV:
“Sophia has something to explain to you.“Caspar said, pulling out my chair.
“Hello, Audrey,” Sophia said.
‘Hearing from Caspar that you seem to have some misunderstandings about us.”
I shot Caspar a pointed glare, annoyed that he’d orchestrated this conversation without warning me.
‘Would you like to know how we met?” Sophia asked, seemingly unfazed by the tension.
‘I suppose I could hear it,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite my curiosity.
“Caspar found me, quite literally,” Sophia began.
“I was homeless, without a penny to my name. He had just taken over the company and was walking through Chelsea one evening. I was
huddled in a doorway.”
Her eyes grew distant with the memory.
“Most people walked by without a glance, but Caspar stopped. He offered me a job on the spot.”
She glanced at Caspar with unmistakable gratitude.
“He brought me into Thornton Group from nothing, trained me personally. I was his first recruit after taking over, and I’ve become his most
trusted colleague.”
She smiled. “He gave me everything–a career, self–respect, a future,”
I felt a mix of emotions–sympathy for her past struggles, but also a twinge of something else.
“That’s… quite a story,” I said, maintaining a neutral expression while internally wondering if Sophia was deliberately flaunting her special
relationship with Caspar.
Sophia laughed lightly, seemingly seeing through my thoughts.
“Usually in stories like this, the rescued damsel falls in love with her savios, right?”
She paused dramatically, watching my reaction.
I felt my shoulders tense involuntarily.
Sophia, Caspar warned, his tone carrying a hint of exasperation.
“Look how nervous you’ve made him, Sophia teased, her eyes dancing with amusement.
Relax, both of you. I’ve known I was a lesbian since I was thirteen. Women only, always.”
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Chapter 153
She made a sweeping gesture with her hand.
“So please, Audrey, don’t misunderstand our relationship. Caspar and I have never been romantic, not even for a second.”
After she finished speaking, her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen, her expression softening in a way I hadn’t seen before.
“That’s Victoria,” she said, gathering her purse.
“My girlfriend’s flight just landed. I have to go pick her up.”
“Girlfriend?” I repeated, unable to mask my surprise.
Sophia laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Yes, girlfriend. Going on three years now.”
She stood and offered me her hand.
“It was nice finally meeting you properly, Audrey. I hope we can be friends.
After she left, I sat there feeling like the biggest fool on the planet.
Even though Caspar had mentioned it, hearing Sophia openly confirm she was a lesbian and learning she had a girlfriend of three years hit
differently.
It made my jealous behavior seem even more ridiculous and embarrassing
Caspar watched me with barely concealed amusement.
“So,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “Still jealous?”
I straightened my napkin, avoiding his gaze.
“I was never jealous.”
“No?” His eyebrow arched perfectly. “Then what would you call that little performance last night when you demanded I kiss you?”
I didn’t expect him to remember this as well.
Heat crept up my neck. “That was… strategic.”
“Strategic.” He repeated, rolling the word around his mouth like fine wine Interesting strategy.”
I took a sip of water, trying to compose myself.
“Fine. I may have… misinterpreted your relationship with Sophia.”
Caspar smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
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“You know what? I actually like seeing you jealous.”
My cheeks instantly heated. ‘I wasn’t jealous,” I insisted weakly.
“It’s cute,” he continued, ignoring my protest.
‘But I don’t want misunderstandings between us, Audrey. His expression turned more serious. “Not about Sophia, not about anything
Caspar reached across the table and took my hand.
“If something’s bothering you, just tell me. Don’t let it fester. I want to know what you’re thinking.”
Despite myself, I laughed. “Okay, I promise. No more ridiculous assumptions.”
After lunch, I drove to the Bailey family’s Upper East Side apartment.
I was grateful that George and Eleanor weren’t home.
The thought of facing them still made my stomach clench.
I carried a small gift bag containing Margaret’s favorite tea and some homemade cookies as I rode the elevator to their floor.
Martha, the Bailey family’s housekeeper, opened the door with a warm smile.
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