"Mr. Rutherford, the chairman asked me to come pick up some of her personal items," he said casually, as if commenting on the weather.
I stayed silent for a few seconds, then stepped aside to let him in.
Meanwhile, Evan headed straight to the bedroom, opening the closet as if he'd done it a hundred times before. He pulled out some of the clothes and cosmetics Francine often used.
Watching him handle her things with such familiarity twisted something in my chest.
"When did it start between you two?" I forced the words out, my voice hoarse.
Evan paused for a moment, then let out a light laugh.
"Mr. Rutherford, you've misunderstood. My relationship with Miss Watson is strictly professional."
My eyebrows rose. "Professional?"
Then I gestured toward the lingerie in his hand. "Is this part of the job too?"
Evan's smile faltered for just a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. He slowly placed Francine's lingerie into his bag, then turned to face me, his eyes filled with challenge.
"Mr. Rutherford, since you're so curious, let me tell you."
He lowered his voice, the corner of his mouth curling into a mocking grin.