My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 891

Several weeks passed, and Tristan Davis quickly familiarized himself with the company’s operations. With a firm hand, he reorganized the office, streamlined staff roles, and took charge of new projects with impressive clarity and speed. Under his leadership, projects moved smoothly from planning to execution, and his management and technical skills left everyone else in the dust. Gradually, the team’s skepticism toward this “outsider” gave way to a deep, almost unattainable respect. Tristan’s abilities spoke for themselves, and even the most reluctant employees had to admit he was the real deal.

Now, the department director reporting to him was from Marketing. He’d heard the rumors about Tristan Davis but had never met him in person. When Tristan let out a quiet, dissatisfied click of his tongue, the director hesitated, caught off guard.

Had he said something wrong?

He looked over, uncertainty in his voice. “Mr. Davis?”

Tristan, holding his phone in one hand, glanced at a message before flipping the phone face down on the desk. “No issue. Go ahead.”

His tone was still clear and pleasant, but now, there was an undercurrent of impatience.

The director grew even more careful in his report.

By the time the meeting ended, the clock had already ticked past eight-thirty. Tristan instructed his assistant to order a late-night meal for the team.

His assistant, Hilaria Vargas, was a young woman barely two years out of college—elegant, strikingly beautiful, and impeccably poised. She’d originally worked as a secretary for the company chairman, Steven Davis, but had been reassigned to assist Tristan. Tonight, Hilaria wore a tailored suit that accentuated her slim waist and showed off her long, fair legs.

She walked over to Tristan, her lips painted a delicate shade of pink, her gaze gentle. “Is there anything else you need, Mr. Davis?”

Tristan’s brow twitched slightly.

Hilaria had doused herself in perfume, and now, standing so close, the scent grew overwhelming. Tristan found it hard to ignore, his voice dropping, edged with irritation.

“Handle it as you see fit.”

The office lights cast sharp lines across his striking features, making him look even more impossibly handsome. Just one glance was enough to send hearts racing—and Hilaria felt hers pounding so loudly it seemed nearly impossible to contain.

She pressed her lips together, a hint of shyness coloring her cheeks and ears.

After Hilaria left, the lingering cloud of perfume seemed to grow even heavier. The scent only stoked Tristan’s irritation. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then opened a window. The cool night breeze drifted in, finally clearing some of the fragrance from the air.

He moved to stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows and dialed Emily Blair.

She answered almost immediately. The hum of a hairdryer buzzed in the background, making her voice sound a little distant. “Tristan Davis?”

Tristan leaned back against his desk, looking down at the city lights and the bustling traffic below. “You went out for dinner with your coworkers tonight?”

Emily ran her fingers through damp hair, the warm air of the dryer swirling around her. “I did.”

Her eyes narrowed with mischief. “Let me guess—Elizabeth Wilson told you, didn’t she? What else did she say?”

Tristan shoved his free hand into his pocket, clenching his fists, his tone tightening. “She said someone confessed to you. And sent you nine hundred and ninety-nine red roses.”