Chapter 141 The Proposal
That "embrace" had given Anthony quite the jolt.
Especially witnessing the gratitude in Layla's eyes struck a chord deep within him, spreading a tingling warmth throughout his body.
His tall frame tensed up.
"Thank you," Layla said as she stood up from his embrace.
The moment her hand slipped from his, Anthony looked at his palm and, maintaining his composure, casually slipped his hand back into his pocket, every inch the debonair gentleman.
"You're welcome," he nodded, on the verge of turning away when an emotion snagged at him. It was like that impulsive moment when he'd asked for her name, and now, he extended his business card.
She took it gracefully and reciprocated by giving him hers.
Anthony glanced at the number, etching it into his memory—he had a knack for remembering details, especially the ones he wished to remember.
"Goodbye, Miss Adkins," he said with a courteous nod.
"Goodbye," she replied, her gaze lingering on his retreating figure, her mind registering an involuntary emotion. There was something undeniably alluring about his aristocratic air. It was more than just stature or grace; it was the kind of polished manner that spoke of elite upbringing, something even Samuel lacked. Every gesture he made seemed to be a testament to his impeccable breeding.
Men like him were born to be thoughtful partners and husbands. She couldn't help but wonder which fortunate heiress would eventually claim the title of Mrs. Eilish. In her eyes, few seemed worthy of his company.
Anthony slid into the car, handing Brenda her silk scarf.
"Your father and the Dominic family have been getting quite close lately. I met Miss Ava from their family—a beautiful young lady with a gentle voice and demeanor. Both your father and I find her quite charming. Maybe you should meet her soon?" Brenda suggested, probing for his reaction.
Anthony was only twenty-five - still young, but it was never too early for such arrangements. Chances were slim that the first would be the perfect match, so it was wise to explore options. These things took time; even a whirlwind courtship required at least a year or so.
When Brenda received no immediate response, she turned to look at Anthony, who appeared lost in thought He was staring out the window with a faint frown creasing his brow.
"Anthony?"
He snapped back to the present, responding indifferently, "Whatever you arrange is fine."
He harbored no expectations for marriage.
...
With time to spare, Layla decided to swing by the office. En route, she received a call from Nathan about a famous resort in City C planning an expansion. He wanted her to scout the site tomorrow.
Seizing the opportunity, Layla suggested, "If we take on this project, I won't have time for Eilish's work. It might be best to find another designer soon."
"Assess the situation first, then we’ll talk," Nathan hung up, turning to find Nora sitting on the edge of his bed.
"What did Miss Adkins say?"
"She's diligent, heading there first thing tomorrow."
"Good. Are you prepared?" Nora teased with a smile.
Nathan scratched his head, his cheeks coloring slightly, "You make it sound like a marriage proposal. It's just a confession."
"A confession's important too."
"I guess. I mean, if you hadn't pushed, I wouldn't have rushed into this. I would've waited till I was in better shape..."
Nora cut him off: "You should be thanking me. If you keep dragging your feet, Miss Adkins might be swept off her feet by someone else, and you’d be too late. Timing can be everything in romance. Let's keep it between us, though; don't tell Miss Adkins."
"Why not?"
"If she knew I orchestrated your confession, she might mind a little. I understand women; we want our men to be hands-on."
Nathan nodded. "Well, that's true."
"Yep, I'm fine being the hero behind the scenes," Nora said with a grin.
"Thanks a lot. If the confession works, I'll buy you a sports car."
"Oh, come on, we don't need to be so formal with each other." She thought to herself that it was never going to happen anyway.
Nora couldn't help but feel the irony. Men in love were foolish, so easily manipulated and controlled.
...
The villa.
"Mr. Anderson, welcome back," the maid greeted him with reverence.
Samuel handed his suit jacket to her, catching whiffs of an unfamiliar yet delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen.
"Where is she?" Samuel asked with a light smile. Because of a certain young woman, coming home had become the highlight of his day. Before her, "home" was merely a place to eat and sleep. The rest of the time, he was consumed by work.
"Miss Adkins is in the kitchen."
So that's where the lovely scent is coming from.
Samuel's eyes brightened as he strode toward the kitchen.
Layla, with her back to him, was wearing an apron and busy cooking.
Samuel gave Mr. Morris a shushing gesture and walked up quietly, wrapping his arms around Layla from behind.
"Ah!" Layla exclaimed softly, followed by a sweet smile. "You scared me."
"Such a hard worker today," Samuel said, planting a soft kiss on her scented neck.
"That's not fair; I'm always hardworking. I got off work early to cook your favorite dish. Aren’t I great?" Layla teasingly held up a piece of chicken, cooled it with her breath, and offered it to him. "How does it taste?"
"Delicious as always when it's made by my sweetheart."
"You're just flattering me. Dinner's ready—go freshen up."
"Okay."
The once long dining table, fit for a party of a dozen, had been swapped for a cozy round one at Layla's suggestion—perfect for two.
A white tablecloth and a slender porcelain vase with a single pink rose adorned the table.
Roasted chicken, green bean casserole, and brownies left Samuel thoroughly sated.
"What's on your agenda tomorrow?"
"There's a resort looking to expand. I'll check it out in the morning, and then I'll be back."
"Keep tomorrow evening free for me, the Lavish Palace Hotel, seven o'clock."
"The one with the super expensive revolving restaurant?" The place that was a legend among lovers.
"Yes. Mr. Vandella will pick you up. Dress to impress."
"All this fanfare? You're not going to propose, are you?" Layla giggled.
A twinkle sparked in Samuel's eyes as he glanced at her. "Would you be excited if I did?"
"Just kidding, you did want me to get all dolled up."
"Well, I wouldn’t want someone to complain about not looking good in photos without makeup."
Layla chuckled. "You get me."
How could a girl not snap a few pictures when hitting up a fancy restaurant?
Plus, it had been ages since she got all glammed up for a date with him.
She was already daydreaming about tomorrow night.
In the morning, the Rolls Royce pulled up to the Holland Group’s office building.
Before getting out of the car, Samuel reminded her, “Six o’clock, Mr. Vandella will pick you up to get changed. Don’t forget.”
“I know, I know, you’ve told me like a dozen times already. Nag much?” Layla teased, making a silly face at him before she stepped out of the car.
"Boss, Miss Adkins has no clue you're planning to propose tonight, right?"
"She's a little oblivious; she won't expect a thing," Samuel said with a wry smile. Good thing for that, or it wouldn't be a surprise.
Thinking about the evening, Samuel felt a rush of excitement mingled with a touch of nerves.
He was proposing for the first time. The higher the hopes for perfection, the greater the jitters.
He chuckled to himself. Who knew he could feel this unsettled?
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