Chapter 64 Nora Eilish
The following afternoon at the Holland Group's design department.
"What's got you so out of it today? You've been spacing out," Nathan commented. She noticed that all her coworkers had left for lunch, leaving just her behind.
"N-nothing," Layla replied, her reaction a step slower than usual.
"I don't believe that. You've been off your game since this morning, which isn't like you. You're usually all about the hustle."
With no one else around, Nathan's usual stern facade was replaced by a teasing grin.
"Isn't your meeting with Isabel this afternoon? Are the design drafts ready?"
Layla nodded, "I finished them yesterday." Thankfully, she thought, as today her mind was a cluttered mess and working in that state would've been impossible.
"Didn't you say you'd treat me to dinner yesterday? Let's go now. Bring the designs, and after we eat, I'll drop you off for the meeting."
"Okay."
Nathan picked a familiar upscale diner.
It looked expensive, but Layla didn't feel it was right to take her boss to a cheap eatery, so she reluctantly prepared her credit card for a workout.
"Some wine?"
Layla shook her head quickly. "I have to work later; no alcohol for me." Secretly, she wished she could drown her sorrows and wake up to discover her pregnancy was just a nightmare.
"Hm. What would you like then? Steak? Lamb chops? The cod here isn't bad either."
The very mention of food made Layla feel queasy, "I'll just have some risotto."
Risotto? Nathan couldn't help but chuckle inwardly. All the women he'd taken out ordered salads; Layla was the first to go for rice, and risotto at that. It was refreshingly different.
"You seem worried. You look quite worn out today."
"Not really," Layla muttered, looking down. "Maybe it's just the workload, I'm a bit tired and not feeling my best."
"It's a glamorous job being a designer, but it's tough. Not many women stick with it—most leave within a couple of years to get married," Nathan smiled wryly. "I hear you've got quite the following at the office?"
Layla shook her head, "Just a handful, I think." She occasionally received confessions from strangers, not that she paid them much mind. Ever since middle school, she had been the it girl, never short of admirers.
"If you got married now, I'd be deeply disappointed," Nathan said sincerely. "Do you know why I chose your team? Because you're the most talented I've seen. I want to groom you to be my successor, the top female designer in the industry. You'll need to seize these crucial years ahead."
"You know, once you have a child, you're basically locked into family life for at least the next four years, if not longer. By the time you think about returning to work, it'll be too late. You'll be outpaced by the younger generation. As passionate as you are about design, you surely don't want to resign yourself to being a full-time housewife during your prime years, right?"
Nathan's words struck Layla hard—as they mirrored her own fears.
She had her life clearly mapped out in her mind, with her career playing a vital role.
As a prospective bride to Vincent, post-graduation, she had even decided to postpone motherhood until at least age 27, knowing all too well the significance of those first few critical years on her own path.
Moreover, being unexpectedly pregnant with Samuel's child meant her life could turn upside down.
From any perspective, terminating the pregnancy seemed the wisest choice. Yet, compassion tugged at her heartstrings for the innocent little life that had arrived by surprise...
Making the "right" choice was undoubtedly the hardest challenge of them all.
The risotto was delicious, but to Layla, it might as well have been tasteless wax; she listlessly nibbled at a few bites.
Nathan grinned at her, "You've got a bit of rice there,” he said, reaching over to brush away the stray grain from her lips.
Embarrassed, Layla dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.
"You let your guard down around me. That uninterested, huh?" he teased.
Layla offered a feeble smile, playing along, "Well, you are my boss and my role model."
"Isn't it trendy for fans to chase after their idols?"
She didn't reply.
"Just joking. Let's go," he said, rising from the table.
"Yeah." Layla didn’t take him seriously. As she reached for the check, Nathan pressed his fingers over hers.
"You don’t really think I'd let a lady pick up the tab, do you?"
"Thanks." Layla knew someone of Nathan's wealth wouldn't miss the cost of a meal, and with her current lack of spirits, she didn't put up a fight over the bill.
Their Maybach was parked beneath the dazzling lights of the entertainment company building.
"Thanks for the ride," Layla said, unbuckling her seatbelt. Nathan reached over, patting her head as one might an adorable pet.
"Chin up."
"Will do."
Layla walked into the office building, pushed open the conference room door, and immediately met with Isabel’s icy glare, arms crossed, emanating anger.
“Miss Layla, the designs are done; take a look…”
Before she could finish, Isabel knocked the designs to the floor, leaping up from the sofa in a rage to slap her. Luckily, Layla's quick reflexes saved her from the assault.
" You dodged my slap?" Isabel’s fury seemed to escalate by the second.
"What are you doing, Miss Layla?"
"Playing dumb with me? I handed this project over to a mere assistant like you as a token of respect, and this is how you repay me? By seducing my man?" Isabel's eyes blazed with rage. 'That little vixen,' she thought, 'Last time she dared to deceive me, tricking the project out of my hands!'
"You're talking about Mr. Marley? He and I are just..." Layla began.
"Save it. I know everything," interrupted Isabel, thrusting her smartphone in front of Layla's eyes. There it was—a sneaky snapshot taken in the restaurant, capturing the intimate moment when Nathan was brushing a grain of rice from the corner of Layla's mouth.
"You've got it all wrong. It's not what you think with Mr. Marley and me..."
"Oh, it's exactly what I think! You seduce my man while stealing my project. Shameless, that's what you are. Do you even know who my cousin is? She's the fiancée of your so-called boss at Holland Corp. Just one word from me, and you're history in this industry."
Layla felt her head spin. Her cousin was Nora Eilish?
As she stood there, stunned, Isabel slapped Layla across the face.
"Stop it!" came a firm yet gentle voice that stopped Isabel in her tracks.
The woman who walked in was about twenty-five, with a tall and commanding presence at 5'7". She was dressed in a crisp white business suit, which complemented her neat bobbed hair and fierce yet elegant features. There was no mistaking her grace—she was born into high society.
Her entrance quickly took over the atmosphere in the conference room.
"Why can't I teach her a lesson, cousin?" huffed Isabel, her frown conveying displeasure yet she ceased her aggressive stance.
So, this was Nora Eilish? Layla was in awe of the commanding woman before her. Statuesque, beautiful, exuding the kind of innate elegance you'd expect from an heiress.
But Nora was no delicate damsel. She radiated confidence and poise, much like Samuel, dominating the room's attention with her powerful presence.
One thought echoed in Layla's mind: Only a woman like her is truly worthy of someone like Samuel!
Nora was Samuel's betrothed, and Layla? What was she in comparison? A mistress?
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