A meal at the Lennox's ll

Chapter 15

Lyra

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks but kept my composure. “I’m well aware of that, Mr. Montgomery,” I said sharply. “But a solid reputation in the healthcare sector translates to long-term profitability. Patients don’t walk into hospitals because of flashy ads; they come because they trust the name on the building.”

Ethan scoffed. “And what’s your plan for earning that trust? A bake sale?”

The room grew tense, the air practically crackling. Roman, who had been silent thus far, watched the exchange with a piercing gaze.

“I’d suggest you counter my proposal instead of resorting to cheap shots,” I fired back, my tone calm but cutting. “Unless you don’t have one?”

Ethan bristled, flipping open his folder and presenting a proposal riddled with overly optimistic projections. “This plan ensures quicker returns by focusing on urban centers with higher insurance coverage. It’s straightforward and avoids unnecessary expenditure on outreach.”

I leaned forward, my eyes narrowing as I scanned the document. “It’s also short-sighted,” I said, pointing to a section. “This assumes a 90% insurance coverage rate, which isn’t realistic in many areas. You’re alienating a significant portion of the market and risking long-term stability for short-term gains. That’s not sustainable.”

The room was divided. Half the attendees murmured in agreement with me; the other half leaned toward Ethan’s argument. Roman finally broke his silence.

“Mr. Montgomery,” he said, his voice cold enough to cut glass, “you were not invited to this meeting. Why are you here?”

Anthony, seated beside me, quickly explained, “Martin couldn’t make it due to an emergency, so Ethan came to fill in.”

Roman’s icy gaze shifted to Ethan, who straightened in his seat. “Noted. However, given your recent demotion, I suggest you familiarize yourself with the boundaries of your current role.”

The tension in the room was palpable. Ethan clenched his jaw, nodding stiffly, but his eyes burned with fury.

As the meeting wound down and people began to leave, I packed my notes, eager to grab a plate of food from the spread Roman had arranged before heading home. But as I reached for a serving, Ethan appeared beside me, his expression dark.

“You’re going overboard,” he hissed. “This obsession with competing with me—it’s pathetic. Just get over it and leave.”

I turned to face him, my stomach flipping in both anger and disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice low but sharp. “Go back to being the nobody you were. Stop trying to overshadow me.”

I laughed bitterly. “Who do you think you are? My career doesn’t revolve around you, Ethan. Now, do me a favor and fuck off.”

Before I could step away, his hand shot out and gripped my arm. I winced, but before I could react, a cold voice sliced through the air.

“Leave her this instant, Mr. Montgomery.”

Ethan froze, and so did I. Roman Lennox stood a few feet away, his pale eyes like shards of ice.

Ethan released my arm immediately, smiling weakly. “I was just helping Lyra. She’s a bit clumsy—”

“That’s enough,” Roman interrupted, his voice calm but firm, with an undercurrent of menace. “Your presence here is no longer required. I suggest you leave.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, his teeth clenched as he threw one last glare my way. Without another word, he stalked off.

I exhaled shakily, muttering, “Great, this is my fault now too.”

“Where are you going?” he asked me.

“Home,” I replied, unsure how to read his expression.

He shrugged off his coat, draping it over a chair. “Dinner is being served in the dining hall. Join me.”

I hesitated, but his tone left no room for argument. Smiling sheepishly, I followed him.

The dining hall stretched out in front of me like something out of a palace. The long table, polished to a mirror-like sheen, was set with silverware that looked too expensive to touch. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, and floor-to-ceiling windows framed the night sky. It was intimidating, to say the least, but the food smelled incredible, and my stomach was growling.

As I sat down, Anthony leaned in conspiratorially. “Guess it’s just you and me now.”

I glanced around. “Why did everyone leave? I thought this dinner was for the whole team.”

Anthony smirked. “It was. But no one wants to share a meal with Mr. Lennox. He’s… particular about food.”

“Particular how?” I asked, intrigued.

Anthony chuckled and took a sip of water. “Let’s just say he’s so prim and proper about eating that it kills everyone’s appetite. You’ll see.” He leaned closer and whispered, “My advice? Run now while you still can.”

I laughed, thinking he was exaggerating. But when the food was served, I realized he wasn’t.