Chapter 42 The Delivery Guy
"What is it?" Elizabeth's tone was calm and cold.
Clara's voice was both arrogant and annoyed. "Don't you think you're pathetic, Elizabeth? I kidnapped you, almost killed you, and yet it was Mr. Windsor who saved you. He knew I was the perpetrator, but he didn't punish me. I'm still alive and well. Elizabeth, you're a pathetic wife!"
Elizabeth rebutted, "If you ever call to harass me again, I'll tell Mr. Windsor's mother about it. Next time she catches you and your mother, it won't just be to slap your face until it's swollen, but to ruin it. I'd love to see how you plan to marry Alexander with a disfigured face!"
"You..." Clara was momentarily speechless, stunned by Elizabeth's retort.
After a while, she half-mysteriously, half-evilly sneered, "Elizabeth, it won't be long before there's a good show to watch!"
Elizabeth asked, "What do you mean!"
"Bye-bye!" Clara hung up triumphantly.
Elizabeth was silently pondering on Clara's words.
She thought, 'A good show?What else could Clara do to me?'
She was already living frugally, with only three thousand dollars to her name, which Owen had given it to her out of pity. She was pregnant with a child whose father's identity was unknown, ended up signing a contract with Alexander, who was controlling her. She worked at the Tudor Group, where Owen occasionally helped her out. Now there was also Simon who kept following her.
It seemed like she was surrounded by wealthy people.
But for someone like her, with no background, no money, and no power, barely better off than a homeless person, it wasn't a good thing.
She never wanted to climb the social ladder.
She just wanted to live quietly, and if someone cared about her, she would be deeply grateful.
Just like Owen.
Although Elizabeth knew that Owen was just another wealthy person, who, out of a momentary whim, decided to help a woman as down-and-out as a homeless person like her. And every time he helped Elizabeth, it was tinged with a bit of a patronizing attitude.
Yet, to Elizabeth, that was already a sliver of kindness.
Sometimes, when Elizabeth thought of Owen, her heart would involuntarily feel a warm sensation.
In the afternoon, when she went to work, Elizabeth didn't see Owen. In the evening, when she got off work, Owen wasn't at the bus stop outside the company to pick her up.
For three days in a row, Owen didn't show up, and Elizabeth occasionally felt like something was missing.
However, during the day, she was busy running errands for her office colleagues. And at night, when she returned to Alexander's place, she had to work on her drawings alone in her room.
After all, this was the first design project Sawyer had assigned to her. She not only had to complete it independently but also had to do it exceptionally well. She couldn't let Sawyer down.
As a result, Elizabeth didn't have time to wonder why Owen hadn't shown up for three days, nor did she have time to think about what Clara's phone call meant.
And strangely, she hadn't seen Alexander in those three days either.
But that was even better for her. Being alone with the cold-blooded Alexander every day made Elizabeth feel like she was walking on eggshells. With Alexander not around, she felt free and relaxed in the house.
And she could work late into the night without a worry in the world.
Drawing was Elizabeth's favorite. She had studied it in college and in prison with Esme, who was also into it. They got along very well and talked mostly about architectural design.
Esme was an experienced designer. During the two years in prison, she shared a lot of her knowledge with Elizabeth. Despite that, Elizabeth learned a lot about architecture.
In three days, Elizabeth completed a draft proposal on her own, using only her free time after-work hours. Remarkably, she did it all by hand because she didn't have computer of her own yet.
In her small bedroom, there were many discarded drafts piled up on the floor. The next day, she overslept because she had worked late into the night, and she forgot to close her bedroom door properly before rushing out.
Shortly after Elizabeth left, Alexander came out of his bedroom. A discarded piece of paper at Elizabeth's door caught his attention.
He picked it up and saw that it was an architectural design drawing with a red cross marking it as discarded. Alexander's mother, Esme, was a highly accomplished architect, and Alexander had grown up being exposed to architectural design, so he was quite knowledgeable about it.
Even though it was a discarded draft, Alexander could tell that it was done professionally.
He was momentarily stunned.
Elizabeth could actually draw architectural designs?
He put the discarded draft back in Elizabeth's bedroom and closed the door before leaving.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth took her best drawing to work and handed it to Sawyer. She explained, "Mr. Rivera, thank you for trusting me. I didn't have time during the day, so I drew this at home after work. I hope you're satisfied. If there's anything you're not happy with, I can revise it. I don't have a computer, so I drew it by hand, and it might be a bit messy."
In fact, Elizabeth's drawing wasn't messy at all.
She was just being modest.
After all, it was her first job, her first design after getting out of prison, and she was very humble and sincere.
Sawyer glanced at her drawing and didn't say whether it was good or bad. Instead, he smiled at Elizabeth, then told her,"The first drawing always has its flaws. Leave your drawing with me, and I'll make notes on it. I'll point out any issues for you."
"Thank you, Mr. Rivera," Elizabeth said humbly.
"Wait a moment," Sawyer paused. "Tell everyone that I'm treating them to coffee this afternoon. You're included."
Elizabeth wasn't overly surprised.
She was always calm and self-aware.
Every afternoon, the office would group together to buy coffee and snacks, and it was always Elizabeth who ran the errands, but no one ever treated her to coffee.
Elizabeth was always silent and reserved.
Now, with Sawyer inviting her, she simply said, "Thank you," without any signs of excitement.
Elizabeth went out and informed her colleagues. That afternoon, she was still responsible for ordering lunch and afternoon coffee.
Elizabeth first had a five-dollar meal at an inconspicuous restaurant, then went to the coffee shop to pick up the order.
As she was carrying the packed coffee and desserts back to the office, she saw a woman standing in front of her.
"You're not a waitress anymore? Now you're delivering takeout?" the woman looked at Elizabeth with an arrogant expression and asked.
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