Swapping a Broken Heart for a New Start novel Chapter 348

Mr. Thompson mingled through the crowd, striking up conversations left and right. Each time, he handed over one of his business cards with a practiced smile.

Everyone at the event had their eyes on Mr. Thompson. It wasn’t hard to read between the lines—those cards were more than just cards. They were golden tickets.

The companies lucky enough to receive one were practically glowing with pride. Those who didn’t get a card watched with envy, but there was no bitterness. After all, Mr. Thompson only had so many cards to give, and you couldn’t deny the winners had earned them.

As people chatted with Mr. Thompson, it became clear this wasn’t a one-off opportunity. There’d be more chances down the line, as long as your product stood out.

By the end of the night, everyone seemed to be in good spirits. The wine was flowing, the hors d’oeuvres were delicious, and laughter echoed around the grand hall.

Well—almost everyone. If there was anyone feeling invisible tonight, it was Sandra Taylor.

Jordan Smith wasn’t quite as down in the dumps, but after Walter Wilson called him out earlier, his pride had definitely taken a hit. He couldn’t help but notice how the other guests, even those from companies smaller than The Smith Group, all seemed to have a card in their pocket.

But The Smith Group? Nothing. Not a handshake, not a card, not even a second glance from Mr. Thompson.

Jordan found his gaze drifting to Camila Davis—the same Camila he used to look down on. Now she was the star of the show. Everyone wanted a moment with her, even Mr. Thompson himself treated her with genuine respect.

The contrast stung. Jordan felt a mix of emotions he couldn’t even name.

Camila, for her part, didn’t spare him a second thought. After a night of networking and small talk, she was running on empty.

These connections were rare, and she knew how important every handshake was. By the time dessert came around—tiny cheesecakes and chocolate truffles—her head was spinning. The glass of red wine she’d been nursing didn’t help, even though she’d tried to pace herself. Walter Wilson and Jessica Harris had done their best to run interference, but it was still overwhelming.

“Excuse me, I need the ladies’ room,” she said, eager for a breather.

She washed her hands and stepped out, only to nearly bump into someone she didn’t expect at all.

Dennis Williams.

It took Camila a second to recognize him without the low lighting of the conference hall. Now, in the brighter corridor, she could see him clearly—tailored black suit, shirt buttoned right up, not a hair out of place. He looked every bit as distinguished as she remembered, just a little less aloof and a little more approachable. Even her breathing seemed to slow as she took him in.

Behind him stood Aaron and a bodyguard.

Dennis’s expression softened when he saw her. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern in his voice.

Camila blinked, wondering if the wine was playing tricks on her.

He stepped closer, smiling slightly. “Had a bit too much?”

“You okay?” he asked, looking genuinely worried.

She nodded, though her voice was a little slow. “Yeah… I’m fine.”

Dennis could tell she was more than a little tipsy. He hesitated, then asked, “Are you sure you can walk?”

She nodded again, but just stood there, swaying a little.

He took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. The warmth and the faint scent of cedar from his cologne wrapped around her. She giggled, “Now I’m not cold anymore…”

Dennis looked at her for a moment, then said, “Come on, hold onto my arm.”

“Okay.”

She clung to his sleeve with both hands, letting him guide her.

But after just a few steps, there was another hiccup—her heel got stuck in the gap of a storm drain. She couldn’t get her foot out at all.

Camila looked up at Dennis with big, helpless eyes. “I really can’t walk now… What do we do?”