When the Boss’ Lady Became His Sister-in-law

Since breakfast, when she had made pancakes and scrambled eggs for Summer, Kristin’s

mood seemed subdued.

She was distracted, lost in her thoughts.

Rhett glanced sideways at Kristin and spoke with a concerned voice. “Are you feeling alright?”

Kristin quickly shook her head. “I’m fine…”

Her worries were all about Garner.

Kristin was self–aware enough to recognize the boundaries of her relationship with Rhett. There was a line that could never be crossed. But Garner was emotionally untouched.

Once upon a time, Garner had a crush on a girl, but after Ruby publicly accused him of being a creep and mistreating her, that budding romance was over before it even began.

Since then, Garner remained alone, living a simple life with Summer. In the past five years, no one had dared to set him up with anyone. Those who were interested backed off as soon as they learned about the kid.

Garner didn’t seem to want anyone either. He had grown accustomed to solitude, with only Summer and his mother who was still in prison as his cares in the world.

In truth, Kristin’s five years in prison were just as torturous for Garner, one trapped within the walls, the other confined by them from the outsid

“Pull over here, please,” Rhett instructed the driver to stop by the curb.

The driver, a little surprised, quickly obliged.

Rhett stepped out and bought a latte from the coffee shop by the road.

A shocked Kristin followed. “Mr. FitzGerald, do you like lattes? Next time, I’ll grab one for you.”

He handed her the latte. “It’s for you.”

Kristin clutched the latte, stunned.

For her?

Her eyes moistened, and she lowered her head, following Rhett back into the car.

“I’ve noticed you like coffee sweet,” Rhett guessed, assuming Kristin had a sweet tooth.

Kristin didn’t respond. It was just that life had been so bitter that she craved sweetness.

Because after that day she had taken the medicine, Rhett had said, whenever life felt too bitter, she should have a piece of candy.

“Thank you, Mr. FitzGerald.”

Chapel 155

At the FitzGerald Group.

Kristin entered the company alongside Rhett as his executive assistant, a sight the staff had grown used to.

“Good morning, Mr. FitzGerald,” employees greeted Rhett.

He nodded, ever so slightly.This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

Kristin wasn’t imagining it. Rhett’s demeanor changed the moment he entered the office, his aura chillingly aloof.

The contrast between Rhett at home and at work was stark.

“Kristin, a moment, please,” York called her aside before they could enter the elevator.

Rhett frowned. “It’s not yet office hours. What do you need her for?”

York looked puzzled. “Mr. FitzGerald, you’ve had your breakfast, but we haven’t, so I thought I’d take Kristin for a bite.”

Kristin felt awkward and had eaten already with Mr. FitzGerald.

“She’s busy.” Rhett said curtly, shutting the elevator doors.

York was left outside, dumbfounded. “Mr. FitzGerald was quite the taskmaster,” he thought,

“Poor Kristin.”

York sighed, feeling increasingly that Kristin deserved better. He resolved to be kinder to her, especially since others, like Nicola, had been downright malicious, once trying to harm Kristin with sulfuric acid.

Inside the elevator, the air was tense.

Kristin stole a glance at Rhett, puzzled by his sudden mood.

“Mr. FitzGerald,” she whispered.

“Stay away from York,” Rhett was firm.

Kristin was confused. “York is nice. We work together. I can’t just avoid him.

She didn’t grasp Rhett’s meaning.

“I mean…” Rhett started, then paused, clearing his throat instead of continuing.

He knew York too well. The man’s compassion was selective, typically reserved for attractive women. After badmouthing Kristin, now he seemed to be her advocate, even warning Rhett not

to overwork his staff. Clearly, his intentions were not pure.

“Mr. FitzGerald, here’s the schedule for the week,” Kristin said, presenting a tablet to Rhett once. they were in his office. “The partnership with Harborside Haven has been a success. There’s a celebration dinner tonight. Will you attend?”

Rhett drummed his fingers on the desk. He rarely attended company social events.

11:20

Kristin knew this but asked anyway, perhaps hoping he’d make an exception just this once.

“If possible, it would be great if you could break tradition and attend, maybe even give Neal from the Investment Division a shout–out in front of the executives and project team. It would boost his morale,” Kristin said softly, her voice carrying a plea.

Rhett considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, arrange it.”

Holcomb had called him earlier, insisting he come home tonight, mentioning Nicola would be cooking.

Was this an attempt at an apology, or a way to evade responsibility?

“After the event, join me back at the house?” Rhett sought Kristin’s agreement.

“Sure,” she replied. “Whatever you think is best, Mr. FitzGerald.”

Rhett sighed inwardly. Her approach to him was strictly professional.

“Don’t worry about tonight, whatever happens. I’ll be there,” Rhett reassured her.

He wouldn’t let the incident with Nicola and the sulfuric acid go unpunished.

Kristin gripped her hands tightly, nodding.

At the kindergarten.

Summer was engrossed in his math class when a teacher called out his name from outside the

door.

Summer slipped quietly out of the classroom and approached his teacher with a respectful gaze. “Did you need to see me for something?”

“Sweetie, your hair’s gotten so long without a chance to trim?” The teacher said in a soft voice.

Summer shook his head and refused, “Uncle Garner says it’s still not long enough to need a

haircut.”

“Let me give it a little trim for you,” The teacher suggested, taking Summer’s hand and leading him to the office.

“But you should have my mom’s permission to cut my hair.” Summer said cautiously, resisting the idea of his teacher cutting his hair.

“It’s just a little off the ends, it’s no big deal,” the teacher coaxed gently.

“No, I can’t. Uncle Garner says our body and hair are gifts from our parents. We shouldn’t let just anybody cut our hair,” Summer insisted.

“Summer, be a good boy,” the teacher said, clearly losing patience and reaching for a few strands of Summer’s hair.

Summer quickly dodged. “If my hair gets too long. Mom will take me to the salon. I don’t need a haircut from you.”

1100 L

“Alright then, I’ll just tidy it up a bit,” the teacher said with a smile, putting down the scissors and waving Summer over.

Summer approached, still suspicious,

“You’re pulling my hair,” he winced as he felt strands being tugged from his scalp.

It seemed like the teacher had pulled out several hairs.

“Oh, sorry, Summer! I didn’t mean to. There were some knots. I was just trying to help sort it out,” the teacher said with a smile, fumbling with Summer’s hair and then dismissing him back to class.

Summer returned to the classroom, confusedly glancing back at his teacher.

Looking at the strands of hair in her hand, the teacher slipped them into a small plastic bag. “Ms. Haywood, I’ve got the hair with follicles from Summer. I recommend sending them for testing within two weeks to ensure accuracy, as the results could be compromised if we wait too long.”

On the phone, Hertha’s voice was a bit hoarse. “You’ve done well. Bring the sample to me.”

Summer’s hair with follicles was secured. Now it was up to Adrienne to play her part.

But deceiving a child was one thing, pulling the wool over James would be quite another.