Female Novel
Chapter 1812
"Come a bit earlier tomorrow, so we can continue with the fitting. I'll have someone deliver more outfits
tailored to your size in the afternoon," Catherine said cheerfully.
Estelle's heart tightened. She had been planning to ask for the day off!
Jonathan held her hand with a touch of helplessness. "Mom, why don't you take Norah for the fitting? If
you keep this up, Ella will be too scared to come over!"
"It's fine if she doesn't try them on. Just take everything back with you for Estelle," Catherine conceded,
stepping back. After all, as long as Estelle wore the clothes she bought, that was enough.
Amidst the laughter and chit-chat, Geoffrey descended from the upstairs, his warm smile breaking out.
"Estelle!"
"Mr. Lamont!" Estelle turned with a smile.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries with Geoffrey, Estelle made her excuses to leave.
She drove Jonathan's car straight to the barbecue joint.
At this hour, the place was bustling, filled with a clamor of voices, laughter, and the steam of sizzling
grills.
"Ms. Macclain!" Damian greeted her enthusiastically as he spotted Estelle.
"Where's Mr. Flemmings?" she inquired.
"He's helping out in the back. I'll take you to him!" Damian grinned, his good nature shining through.
"No need, you're busy. I'll find him myself!" Estelle made her way through the crowded dining area and
into the kitchen.
The kitchen was a flurry of activity, and Zachary greeted her with a wide smile, "Ms. Macclain, long time
no see!"
"Zachary!" Estelle rolled up her sleeves. "Need a hand with anything?"
Xavier clapped his hands clean and approached, speaking in an even tone, "Everything's under
control. The orders are out. Let's head to the backyard."
They moved to the backyard, where the leaves of the tree were scattered and the once lush roses had
withered, creating a scene of desolation.
Xavier settled into a chair, and Zachary rushed over to ask, "Ms. Macclain, have you eaten yet?"
"Not yet," Estelle replied.
"Fry up a couple of dishes!" Xavier called out.
"Right away!" Zachary spun on his heel and dashed back to the kitchen.
"Have a seat," Xavier gestured to a wooden stool and poured a hot cup of tea for Estelle. "How have
you been lately?"
Estelle took the tea and nodded slightly. "The film set is wrapping up soon. I'll have some downtime.
Oh, and Magdalen is getting married!"
"I know, I got her invitation," Xavier replied.
"What did you need to see me about?" Estelle asked.
Xavier looked at her squarely. "Have you heard from Gab recently?"
Estelle's expression shifted, her voice cooling. "Gab made it clear that we should stop looking for him.
There's no need for you to ask about him either."
Xavier lit a cigarette, "I used to be able to reach him, but these last two months, all my messages have
gone unanswered. If you know something, you have to tell me."
"I don't know anything, and I won't ask," Estelle responded firmly.
"Stella!" Xavier suddenly called her by name. "Even if I'm out, I'm still one of Gab's people. Younovelbin
shouldn't keep things from me."
"There's nothing to keep from you. I'm following Gab's instructions and staying out of that side of
things," Estelle's gaze was steely. "I suggest you do the same."
"Do you really expect me to believe you're not involved?" Xavier scoffed.
Estelle pressed her lips together, saying nothing more.
Zachary arrived with the dishes at that moment, noting the tension, he chuckled nervously, "What's
up?"
"Nothing!" Xavier said tersely, handing utensils to Estelle. "Let's eat."
"You two go ahead. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me," Zachary said before leaving.
Estelle picked up her fork and began to eat quietly, the air between them thick with unspoken thoughts.
After finishing her meal, Estelle cleared the dishes to the kitchen and grabbed her purse. "I should be
going."
"If you won't tell me, I'll find out myself," Xavier stated, lighting another cigarette.
Estelle abruptly stopped and turned around. Behind her, Xavier leaned back in the wicker chair, slowly
blowing a ring of smoke. The pale blue haze obscured his sharp, cold gaze.