The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 57

"Is everyone here?"

"Yes, they insisted on waiting for you before eating."

Vivian nodded, took two steps, and then abruptly stopped.

She glanced back.

The man standing at the entrance was staring at her with his jaw practically on the floor, looking completely starstruck and utterly foolish.

She flashed a radiant smile that bloomed like a breathtaking flower.

"..."

That smile completely stole Simon's breath away. Honestly, in all his years, he had never seen anyone so extraordinarily stunning.

With a face like that, why even bother being a boss?

She could conquer the entertainment industry without breaking a sweat!

Simon discreetly wiped away nonexistent drool, his shock lingering long after she disappeared. He checked his watch—nearly ten minutes had passed, and Victor Wyatt still wasn't here.

No... he had to go check if that woman was the boss everyone next door was raving about.

If it was true, she would be a match made in heaven for his boss!

He rushed back to the private room.

The man remained exactly as he was, his long, sculpted fingers resting casually on the edge of the table, the faint outline of veins visible on the back of his hand.

Simon pressed his ear toward the wall, but he couldn't hear anything from the next room.

"Boss... did they change rooms?"

The man's expression remained perfectly neutral. "Why don't you go ask them?"

"...I'll pass."

Simon sat down, entirely unable to suppress his urge to share. "I just saw the most incredible woman at the door. Seriously... if I were a talent agent, I would sign her on the spot!"

"So why didn't you sign her?"

"I...!"

He wasn't a talent agent!

Simon glanced at the man's face and muttered with a pout, "I'm just worrying on your behalf! Your grandfather is about to force you into marrying a woman you've never even met, and you aren't the least bit panicked?"

When the phone rang, Simon immediately picked it up, checked the screen, and leaned close to the man's ear. "Boss, it's Old Mr. Sterling."

The man paused, then stood up with effortless elegance. "Excuse me, Mr. Wyatt. I need to take this call."

He took the phone from Simon, pushed his chair back, and walked out. His calm, collected steps betrayed nothing out of the ordinary.

He answered the phone in the hallway, and Old Mr. Sterling's booming voice immediately blasted through the receiver. "You brat! Where did you run off to this time?!"

"Grandpa..."

The man helplessly pinched the bridge of his nose. "I told you I had a business dinner tonight."

"I don't care about your damn dinners! The Fairchild girl has already arrived in Northside, and you still haven't shown your face! Do you have any manners at all?!"

"Probably not." Silas Sterling's voice was deep and smooth. "But you're the one who keeps insisting on this marriage. I figured it would be enough if you just went to see her."

Old Mr. Sterling exploded. "You're the one getting married!"

"Me?"

Silas's tone turned frigid. "I will never marry a woman with no morals."