Then Tamara caught sight of me.
Immediately, tears welled up in her eyes, and she suddenly dropped to her knees with a dramatic thud.
“Mrs. Shepherd, I never meant for this to happen! I didn’t get a chance to explain!
“Mr. Shepherd’s success is all because of you—I’d never dare take credit for what you’ve done!”
Her abrupt performance cast a pall over the room. The only sound left was the rapid clicking of camera shutters.
Henry immediately stepped between us, shielding her. “Rosalind, was this really necessary? Must you be so aggressive?
“Tamara contributed significantly to this exhibition. Bringing her into the spotlight is just part of mentoring a newcomer.”
He lowered his voice to a sharp whisper, “This is a public event. Don’t make a scene.”
But I wasn’t making a scene. And I never would again.
I fixed a polished smile on my face, helped Tamara up, and calmly introduced her to the press.
The farce ended, smoothed over by hollow pleasantries.
Once the interviews concluded, I pulled out my phone to book a flight—only for Henry to snatch it from my hands.
“You’re booking an international flight? Where to?”
His brows furrowed, his voice laced with disbelief as he fired off his questions.
“Since when do I have an exhibition in Valmont? Why wasn’t I informed?”
