Chapter Nine: Celeste’s Game
1098 Words
Celeste Beaumont knew how to play a part.
She’d been doing it since she was twelve…smiling at fundraisers, charming investors, memorizing wine lists and political opinions to match whatever man she was seated beside.
A Beaumont didn’t get angry.
She adjusted.
She smiled tighter.
And then she destroyed the obstacle quietly, without a hair out of place.
Which was why, when she noticed Adrian Wolfe glancing one too many times at his assistant…the one who had supposedly quit…Celeste didn’t say a word.
She just filed it away like a weapon in waiting.
Adrian’s World
He barely noticed the change at first.
Celeste had always been pleasant, polite, cooperative.
Perfectly polished.
But lately… her touch lingered longer. Her comments, a little sharper. Her presence, a little too curated.
She showed up at the office more often.
Brought lunch without asking.
Asked questions she’d never cared to before…about meetings, about staff.
About Emery.
But Adrian was distracted. Obsessively so.
Because Emery had returned to his orbit…but not to him.
She sat in meetings but never looked at him longer than necessary.
She delivered flawless reports but never stayed to hear his feedback.
She moved like a ghost in his world.
Efficient.
Distant.
Unreachable.
And it drove him insane.
The Beginning of the Game
The first time it happened, Emery didn’t even realize it was intentional.
Celeste was perched on the edge of Adrian’s desk, legs crossed, voice smooth as velvet.
“Oh,” she said, blinking with manufactured surprise, “Emery…there you are. I didn’t know you were still working here.”
Emery didn’t flinch.
“Yes. Temporary contract.”
“Right,” Celeste smiled. “Consultant, isn’t it? That’s wonderful. It must be nice to work in a lesser capacity. Less pressure, I mean.”
Adrian looked up from his tablet, oblivious.
Emery didn’t blink.
“Pressure is relative,” she said. “Some of us just handle it quietly.”
And then she placed a file on the desk, nodded at Adrian, and left without another glance.
But Celeste wasn’t done.
The second time was in front of the board.
A quarterly meeting. High stakes. Adrian at the head of the room.
Emery stood near the screen, controlling the presentation.
She wore a simple navy dress. Sharp heels. Minimal jewelry.
But to Adrian, she might as well have been fire.
She didn’t look at him once.
And that fact clawed at him.
Celeste noticed.
“Oh, Emery,” she said sweetly after the meeting, stepping into the circle of executives, “thank you for the slides. It’s so nice to see you back in a support role. We’ve all missed your… discretion.”
The word was loaded.
Several of the board members glanced up.
Adrian frowned. “Celeste…”
“Oh, I’m just teasing,” she said quickly, laughter tinkling like glass. “You know how office rumors can be. One smile, and suddenly people think someone’s in love.”
The room chuckled politely.
Emery didn’t.
She stood perfectly still.
Then turned, gathered her materials, and walked out without a word.
Adrian stared after her, confused.
Celeste leaned in, lips grazing his ear.
“You should be careful,” she whispered. “Not everyone understands boundaries the way you and I do.”
Behind Closed Doors
“What the hell was that?”
Emery’s voice was low and furious as she cornered Adrian in his office an hour later.
He looked up, startled. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb. That boardroom stunt.”
“I didn’t say anything…”
“Exactly,” she snapped. “You didn’t defend me.”
“I didn’t think…”
“No,” she cut him off. “You never think when it comes to her. She could slap me in the lobby and you’d probably hand her a tissue.”
Adrian stood, stepping around the desk.
“Celeste isn’t …”
“She knows, Adrian.”
“Knows what?”
“That there was something between us.”
He froze.
“She’s not stupid,” Emery said. “And she’s territorial. You don’t see it because you’re too busy pretending everything’s fine, but she’s watching me like I’m a threat. And you’re letting her.”
He looked at her, jaw clenched.
“I didn’t mean to let it happen.”
“But you did. And every time you stay silent, you let her tell the story.”
“Then tell me yours,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
She blinked.
“I can’t fix what I don’t understand.”
She looked away.
“I’m not your problem to fix.”
And before he could reply, she was gone.
Celeste’s Pressure Builds
Over the next week, the little comments turned to strategic moves.
Suddenly, Emery’s tasks were reassigned. Her access to certain meetings “accidentally” revoked. Her office keycard deactivated and “restored” only after hours of calls to IT.
All done with polite apologies and performative confusion.
Adrian noticed.
But when he asked, Celeste tilted her head and said things like:
“I’m just trying to help her transition.”
“She seems overwhelmed.”
“I thought you wanted her role scaled back.”
And Adrian, pulled in fifty different directions, nodded distractedly and told himself he’d fix it later.
But Emery didn’t wait.
She adjusted.
Worked from home.
Stopped coming in unless absolutely required.
And Adrian?
He felt the distance grow like a crack in the glass walls of his empire.
Until one night, he went down to the building’s lower level…the archives.
And found her sitting alone on the floor, surrounded by open boxes and documents.
She didn’t look up.
He stepped closer.
“What are you doing?”
“Working,” she said simply.
“In the basement?”
“My office keycard still doesn’t work.”
His fists clenched.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did.”
“Not like this.”
She looked up at him.
Eyes tired. Voice flat.
“You don’t hear me anymore, Adrian. You just react when you’re scared of losing something.”
Silence.
Then, softly:
“Are you scared of losing me?”
His breath caught.
And for the first time, he couldn’t lie.
“Yes.”
She stood, brushing dust from her skirt.
“Then stop letting her push me out.”
And then, with a look that broke him clean in half, she said the thing he’d feared since the night she resigned:
“She’s not the only one playing games, Adrian. You just pretend you’re not on the board.”
- Writer
