Chapter 22: A date with the boss

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Ashley's POV


I did the first thing I thought of instinctively.

I pulled Ivy into a hug, facing her back against Tristan. I couldn't let him see her.

"What are you doing? You are going to mess up your hair." Ivy said, pulling away.

I hugged her even tighter. "Tristan is coming," I whispered to her.

Ivy paused as she too was taken by surprise.

Tristan was getting even closer.

"You poor thing, don't worry, everything will be alright," I spoke loudly, rubbing Ivy's back.

"Thank you," Ivy answered.

Without another word, she pulled away from the hug. She kept her head down as she pretended to cry so that Tristan wouldn't see her. She had her hands covering her face.

Tristan approached me. "Her boyfriend just broke up with her." I lied.

I guess lies come easily to me these days.

Tristan paused and stared at Ivy's back in an attempt to see if he could recognize her.

"We should leave," I pulled at his arms.

He redirected his attention to me. "You look very beautiful tonight." He whispered.

I saw Ivy turn around as she gave me the thumbs up.

What was wrong with her? She was really looking for trouble tonight.

I couldn't risk the chance of Tristan seeing her.

"I know," I answered. "We have to go now," I insisted.

I dragged his arm behind me as I tried to walk as quickly as I could to the back entrance.

Wait, what did Tristan just say?

Soon, it was Tristan who was leading the way. He strode so effortlessly on his long legs.

We arrived at the back entrance. It was a large open area with a concrete floor. There were a few cars parked and a few plants decorating the place. There were also large metal gates separating it from the outside. Not many people used this entrance, except for a few celebrities and politicians who didn't want to be seen. You never know who you are liable to run into back here. The staff had their own entrance.

We stopped in front of a Rolls-Royce Cullinan. A valet handed Tristan the car keys. Tristan opened the door, gesturing for me to step in. Without a word, I entered the car.

I took a moment to admire the car as I settled myself into its leather seats. I had never been in one of these before.

Tristan was driving tonight because he took the front wheel.

During the drive, I did not speak a word. I don't know why I felt this nervous. I was fiddling with my fingers and looking at everyone else on the outside, rushing to get home.

Luckily Tristan didn't bother making conversation either as he focused most of his attention on the road. He filled the silence by playing some music on the radio.

The car came to an abrupt halt in front of a building. The words Emerald Courtyard were written in bold. Something about the name of the restaurant felt strangely familiar.

There was a fountain in front of the building, with two security guards guarding the door. The glass wall gave a view of the guests inside. Some were sitting and laughing among themselves.

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