He surveyed the chaotic scene, his brow furrowing in distaste. "Mr. Gilbert stated he will only cooperate with Miss Simmons. Wherever Miss Simmons goes, this contract follows."
Summer didn't recognize the man, but she heard the magic word.
*Gilbert.*
The richest family in the capital. The marriage alliance her parents coveted. She had overheard her father on the phone yesterday—Mr. Gilbert had personally set up a meeting after hearing the Simmons name.
It had to be because of her.
He was interested.
Summer waved her hand frantically. "That's me! I'm Miss Simmons!"
Paul Walker, Mr. Gilbert's executive assistant, studied her. He hadn't expected the office to look like a war zone, but his orders were specific: deliver the offer to the woman running the show.
He walked over and handed the draft contract to Summer.
"Miss Simmons," Paul said, his tone professional. "If there is still room to salvage the situation, you are welcome at the Gilbert Group."