Chapter 77 Last Night...
Caught red-handed!
Jennie's eyes widened in shock. "Mr. Holland, coming out of Layla's room? I was watching from the peephole—no, no, I didn't hear any noise in the hallway."
Panic prickled at Layla's scalp; she couldn't find an excuse and could only cast a pleading look at Samuel, who was utterly indifferent, and showed no inclination to help her out.
"He came to get some design plans," she said weakly, a clearly unconvincing excuse.
Samuel let out a mocking laugh. Her excuse couldn't be worse.
"Design plans?" Jennie eyed Samuel's empty hands. And the CEO handling such trivial matters?
But Jennie had other things on her mind. She invited with enthusiasm, "Mr. Holland, my family has a bottle of fine wine, care to try?"
Samuel glanced at Layla and snorted, "Why not."
Jennie was ecstatic, "Layla, you coming?"
"I've got... drawings to work on. Go ahead without me."
Samuel paused at the door, hearing her words, and changed his shoes in the entryway.
"You're such a lifesaver. If things work out with Mr. Holland, I owe you dinner," Jennie hugged Layla excitedly. "Mr. Holland, here I come!"
The door closed.
Layla sighed with relief, but also felt an inexplicable discomfort.
Just five minutes ago, he was lounging on her couch, all hugs and kisses, and now he was in another woman's room.
Jerk!
She slammed the door, tried to get back to her drawings, but couldn't focus.
Forget it, just wash up and sleep.
After a bath, she flopped into bed, yet sleep eluded her.
The scent of that man still lingered on the pillow. He had only spent one night here, yet the room was saturated with his presence, as if he claimed it as his own.
Layla buried her face in the blankets, only to find his scent stronger there.
Was he some kind of animal, marking his territory everywhere he went?
Left with no choice, Layla tried to sleep on the couch, but restlessly tossed and turned.
Was she hallucinating, or did she keep hearing Jennie's laughter from the apartment across?
Jennie was so forward. Were they...?
Layla sat up abruptly, scoffed to herself, "Layla, how naive can you be to even question the obvious?"
A passionate woman and a charismatic man... Wasn't something bound to happen?
But why should it bother her? She had no reason to be upset.
Still, she lay awake until dawn.
Gazing at the dark circles under her eyes in the mirror, she silently blamed Samuel.
As she opened the door...
"Mr. Holland, you've got a killer tie today," Jennie, clutching her LV bag, cooed while adjusting Samuel's tie, radiant as ever, "Good morning, Layla."
Layla couldn't muster even a forced smile. Why did she have to witness such a nauseating scene first thing in the morning?
The smug satisfaction on Jennie's face was a dead giveaway of a pleasurable night.
"Jerk," Layla muttered under her breath as she passed by him.
Samuel's eyebrows furrowed.
The three of them entered the elevator.
Jennie, trying not to be too obvious, took a spot at the back of the elevator next to Layla, but her flirtatious eyes stayed glued to Samuel.
Layla, despite having a sleepless night and feeling groggy, seemed to have heightened senses.
Their eyes met once, twice, thrice... Jennie's secret smiles were sickeningly sweet.
Layla felt a surge of nameless irritation.
Was this blatant flirting not like assuming everyone else in the elevator was blind?
Is a clandestine affair underground more exhilarating than booking a room?
"Why aren't we there yet?" Layla couldn't help but let out an annoyed tone.
"What was that?" Jennie inquired.
"Nothing."
Finally, the elevator chimed, signaling their arrival at the ground floor.
Layla intended to walk out alone, but Jennie hooked her arm.
"Good morning, Boss," Mr. Vandella approached and opened the rear door of a car.
"Mr. Holland, I'm wearing heels today, which makes walking a pain. Can you give me a lift?" Jennie asked, then turned to Layla, "You know Mr. Holland, come with us."
"I'm not heading to the office. Go ahead without me."
Jennie couldn't wait for that cue, beaming as she said, "Then drive safely, okay? Let's go, Mr. Holland."
She released Layla and reached out to embrace Samuel, only to hug thin air.
Samuel's stern face grew even frostier, "It's out of my way." With that, he got into the car.
Mr. Vandella shut the rear door.
The car drove off.
"He forgets you the second he zips up, what a jerk," Layla muttered under her breath.
But Jennie was swooning over the departing car, "Mr. Holland is so cool, irresistibly charming."
"Don't you think he's being incredibly rude?"
"Not at all, a man like Mr. Holland have every right to be proud. Don't you find that kinda attitude... alluring?"
Layla wanted to simply respond with a sarcastic laugh. Alluring? More like something she'd rather avoid.
"Yeah, I've made up my mind. I'm going to make him mine!" Jennie declared, her ambition burning bright.
"He's engaged, you know."
"So what?" Jennie brushed it off, "A man who's not married is still single, which means there's still a chance. Besides, marriages can end in divorce. If she can't keep him, that's her lack of ability, not mine."
Layla was speechless. Have people's values really become this skewed?
...
At the office.
Isabel snatched the eyebrow pencil from the makeup artist in a fit of anger, " You've made my eyebrows uneven, can't you see? Charging me two grand a day for this? You're wasting my money."
"I'm so sorry, Miss Layla, I'll redo them," the makeup artist thought the eyebrows were fine and that it was Isabel's foul mood that was the real issue, but she didn't dare voice that opinion.
Isabel was a tough customer—charming when in a good mood, but merciless when not. Right now, it was definitely the latter.
The assistant burst in, "Isabel, the designer has arrived."
Isabel exploded, "Layla? She's got the nerve to show up? Tell her to get lost."
"Right away."
"Wait, actually, let her in."
"Miss Layla," Layla entered to find just the two of them.
Isabel sat on the sofa, arms crossed, an imposing figure. "Layla, you made a fool of me in front of Nathan, and now you dare show your face here? Nathan’s not around to back you up today."
"I've brought the design sketches..."
"No need, I've assigned the project to someone else."
"I've been on it from the start. Other designers might not know it as intimately as I do."
"Ha, that's hilarious. You're just a junior assistant and you think you're better than the other designers?"
Layla came today with a calm demeanor, her intent not conflict. "I haven't looked down on anyone, Miss Layla. I'm here to clear up any misunderstandings between us. If I were involved with Mr. Marley in the way you imagine, why would I be pulling all-nighters drawing plans, visiting construction sites?"
Isabel rolled her eyes and let out a cold laugh. " You love taking the moral high ground, putting on a show for Nathan. I've seen enough of poor girls' tricks. Don't treat me like a naive sweetheart; I'm not buying your stories."
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