Chapter 496

Evelyn's lips curved into a warm smile. "Indeed, Madam. Your keen eye for fashion is remarkable—to recognize the designer at first glance!"

Beatrice maintained her poised, unreadable expression. "I attended the runway show when Valentina debuted this collection. It made quite an impression. You've excellent taste, my dear. Frankly, this dress suits you better than their professional models."

The compliment didn't fluster Evelyn. She beamed openly. "You're too kind, Beatrice."

The older woman studied Evelyn with growing admiration. There was something inexplicably familiar about this young woman she couldn't quite place.

After another appraising look, Beatrice made her offer. "I'm Beatrice Sterling, editor-in-chief of Vogue Elite. Have you considered modeling for our publication?"

At 168cm, Evelyn wasn't runway tall, but her proportions were perfection. Her delicate yet vibrant features held that rare quality the fashion world coveted.

Evelyn politely declined. "I'm afraid I've just joined Mr. Sinclair's company. Changing careers isn't in my plans."

Beatrice's gaze turned pitying. "What a waste of beauty behind a desk."

Evelyn's smile turned diplomatic. "I'm honored by your offer. While I won't leave my position, I'd be happy to assist with photoshoots after hours." She glanced at Samuel with respectful inquiry. "Provided my employer approves, of course."

Before Samuel could respond, Beatrice intervened with familial authority. "No need for his permission. My nephew wouldn't dare refuse his aunt borrowing an employee occasionally." She extended her phone. "Evelyn, was it? Give me your contact details."

Samuel could only acquiesce to his aunt's request. Evelyn accepted the phone, inputting her number under Beatrice's approving gaze.

Nearby, Gabrielle's expression soured. Watching Evelyn effortlessly gain Beatrice's favor felt like witnessing daylight robbery.

Beatrice Sterling—the notorious "Fashion Queen"—only featured global icons in Vogue Elite. That this provincial nobody could catch her eye was incomprehensible.

Amelia stepped forward with practiced grace. "Aunt Beatrice, you never mentioned needing models. I'd be delighted to assist during my sabbatical." She shot Evelyn a pointed look. "Samuel's company keeps his staff quite occupied. His secretary won't have time for side projects."

Beatrice's assessing gaze turned to her niece. "It's not about willingness, Amelia. Your aesthetic doesn't align with Vogue Elite's brand—we seek uniqueness, freedom, unforgettable presence."

Amelia's smile faltered. "I... see. Perhaps I overestimated my qualifications."

Gabrielle bristled at her friend's humiliation. "Amelia placed in Miss World's finals! She'd have won if not for health issues!"

Beatrice gave Gabrielle a dismissive glance before addressing Amelia. "Beauty pageants are irrelevant. You lack the effortless confidence we seek. Vogue Elite celebrates individuality—not conventional perfection." Her tone softened marginally. "Focus on your health, dear. Leave modeling to professionals."