Altsin stood frozen for a moment.

Chelsea was making it crystal clear—she wanted no interaction with him.

What now?

As Mr. Sullivan, managing billion-dollar projects was second nature to him, but when it came to coaxing a woman? He was utterly clueless.

Helpless. At a loss.

Backstage staff watched the two, one seated and the other standing in silence, and couldn’t help but feel secondhand embarrassment for Altsin.

Those who didn’t recognize him whispered among themselves:

“Who is this guy? Chasing our Ms. Bromley all the way to work?”

“He’s good-looking, sure, but his emotional intelligence seems non-existent. Look how she’s ignoring him—why doesn’t he just give up?”

“Dressed sharp,...