The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself Chapter 392

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Chapter 392

“I’m not going p>

“Perhaps Ms. Bishop is sensitive to the cold. Very well p>

Several of the ladies secretly gave Penelope a thumbs-up for her sharp tongue.

The gala was in the evening, and from the moment she arrived that morning until just before the event began, Penelope was so busy she didn’t even have time for a sip of water. She was constantly on her feet in high heels, greeting distinguished guests with a smile and dealing with one unexpected issue after another.

An elderly guest had a severe allergy to peppers, so Penelope rushed to the kitchen to give specific instructions, then assigned a server to attend exclusively to the man to ensure there were no mistakes.

Just as she was leaving the kitchen, a waiter carrying a tray bumped into her, spilling a plate of spaghetti bolognese all over her. The meat sauce stained the front of her evening gown. It was a disaster.

The waiter apologized profusely. Penelope didn’t make a scene, simply telling him to clean up the floor and then bring a change of clothes to the break room at the end of the hall.

But when the waiter returned, all he was holding was a tablecloth.

“Mrs. Stapleton, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t find anything else,” the young girl said, on the verge of tears.

Penelope took a deep breath. In her experience, crying was the most useless response. She took off her soiled gown, handed it to the server, and instructed her to take it to housekeeping. They were to clean the stain and have the dress dried and returned as quickly as possible.

The server hurried off, leaving Penelope to stare at her predicament with a helpless sigh. It was a rookie mistake to come to such an important event with only one gown. She was unprepared and inexperienced. But for now, all she could do was wait.

After a long while, the server still hadn’t returned. She glanced at the time; the gala was about to start. She reached for her phone to call Theodore, only to realize it was gone.

It must have been on the sofa in the break room. Had the server accidentally scooped it up with the gown? It was the only explanation.

She had no choice but to find someone, even in her current state. Wrapping the tablecloth around herself, she went to open the door, only to find it was locked from the outside.

Penelope frowned. As the pieces clicked into place, she realized she had been set up. The stained dress the stolen phone, the locked door-it had Mrs Bishop and Yvonne written all over it. The server had clearly been bribed.

She knocked on the door a few times, but the room was at the far end of the hallway where few people passed. No one heard her. The room fiad a window, of course, but she was on the tenth floor.

With no other options, Penelope sat down on the sofa and forced herself to calm down.

Outside, Yvonne, dressed in an elegant and noble white evening gown, mingled with the guests. Many who had never met the new Mrs. Stapleton assumed she was the

one.

Mrs. Bishop approached her daughter and gently tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

“Theodore only married Penelope to produce an heir for the Johnson family. She’s nothing more than a human incubator. You shouldn’t underestimate her, but don’t take her too seriously, either. As I’ve said before, the Stapleton family wants a daughter-in-law from a comparable background. Only you are worthy of the title ‘Mrs. Stapleton.’ You need to make Theodore see that, and everyone else as well. When no one takes Penelope seriously anymore, you will have won p>

Yvonne still looked worried. “Theodore is supposed to lead the first dance soon p>

“Unless she plans on dancing naked,” Mrs. Bishop said with a sneer, then patted her daughter’s shoulder. “Go to Theodore. He needs you right now p>

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