His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 261

Unlike one-on-one or small private sessions, Archer Vanderbilt had signed her up for a large class of ten.

From his perspective, horseback riding or golf would have been better, but she had only recently been discharged from the hospital after the car accident. High-intensity sports were out of the question, so after much deliberation, he settled on a fragrance appreciation class.

It was his subtle way of encouraging her to make new friends.

As soon as Virginia Caldwell took her seat at the table, several heavily jeweled women leaned in.

"You look unfamiliar. I haven't seen you around our circles before," said Mrs. Langley. She carried a rare Himalayan crocodile leather bag, and the stunning emerald necklace around her neck caught everyone's eye.

"Hello, I'm Virginia." She offered a polite, distant smile before lowering her gaze back to the fragrance tools in front of her.

"Virginia? There are the Caldwells in the capital... What line of work are you in, Ms. Caldwell?" asked Mrs. Thorne, eyeing her up and down with a thinly veiled critical gaze.

"I'm a psychologist," Virginia replied smoothly.

At those words, the surrounding socialites exchanged meaningful glances, and a brief, heavy silence fell over the group.

The smile faded from Mrs. Langley's face, replaced by a noticeable hint of condescension.

"A psychologist. The bar for these high-end hobby classes is getting lower and lower. Just about anyone can get in nowadays..."

A woman in a tweed Chanel suit immediately chimed in. "Tell me about it. What could we possibly have in common with people in the service industry?"

"Mrs. Langley, I heard your husband just won a six-carat pink diamond for you at auction last week. Show it off, let us admire it."

Smug, Mrs. Langley raised her hand, flaunting the massive rock on her ring finger. "Just a little trinket he bought for fun. Unlike some people, who will never get to see the real deal in their entire lives."

No wonder she had felt Virginia looked somewhat shabby. She had initially thought she was overthinking it—after all, some bespoke haute couture lacked visible logos. But now it was obvious: this woman was just a penniless nobody who had somehow sneaked in.

Virginia stepped out with her bag, pausing a few feet away from them.

"Dr. Caldwell, it's pretty hard to get an Uber around here," Mrs. Langley said, throwing her a sideways glance. "Do you want my driver to drop you off on the way?"

"Then again, we drive a Porsche. You'd have to be very careful not to scratch the custom leather seats."

Unconcealed scoffs and snickers rippled through the group.

Virginia checked the time on her watch and replied softly, "No thank you. I'm good."

Just as the words left her mouth, a sleek, jet-black Rolls-Royce Phantom glided around the corner, coming to a smooth halt right at the bottom of the steps. The silver Spirit of Ecstasy hood ornament gleamed under the sunlight, and the vanity license plate was a glaringly expensive sequence of repeating eights.

The women's laughter died instantly. Every pair of eyes locked onto the luxury vehicle, everyone silently dying to know exactly who it was there to pick up.