Chapter 78

Without further explanation, Layla simply smiled wryly. "Looks like I just can't clarify things."

"You were never innocent to begin with. Nathan wouldn't care so much for a subordinate unless you lured him in."

"With how busy I am with work, I don't even have time to date, let alone the energy to seduce my boss," Layla said, shaking her head. "Right now, there's only one thing on my mind, and that's my job."

"To be honest, just last month I caught my boyfriend, who I've been with for four years, soliciting prostitutes. At this point in my life, I don't have faith in love, and I don't need it."

"Stop playing the pity card."

"I'm not trying to gain sympathy. I'm just steering clear of men for now. Besides, love is a luxury poor people like us can't afford. Making ends meet is what truly matters."

Isabel furrowed her brows and huffed, "So, because you're broke, you're eyeing a rich heir like Nathan for an easy life?"

"I never indulge in such pointless fantasies. Even in ordinary families, marriages are matched in status, let alone in wealthy circles. I'm not that foolish."

"And isn't building your own career, making money through your own efforts, far more secure than relying on a man?" Layla asked with a smile. "Miss Layla, as a renowned actress, I'd imagine you take pride in your career too."

"Of course! I'm not some entitled heiress. I've worked for every penny."

Layla nodded in approval. "Yeah, earning my own money gives me a greater sense of achievement than romance ever could."

Isabel eyed her warily. "Are you trying to manipulate me?" She actually felt a connection with her. Was this woman studying psychology or something?

With a charming smile, Layla replied, "I'm not that clever. I just spoke from the heart. About the lifestyle center you're investing in, you're not just playing shop. You're serious about making it successful. If there's a change in staff now, it might not open in time for your birthday."

"How did you know? Did Nathan tell you?"

"Mr. Marley hasn't said a thing. I learned it from one of your interviews. Since taking on the project, I've been following your appearances. The design for the center was inspired by my understanding of you. A designer's duty is to thoroughly comprehend each client's preferences."

Isabel's expression of distaste was fading away - grudgingly giving way to satisfaction. As much as she hated to admit it, the design in front of her was exactly to her liking.

"Miss Layla, this here's the original plan, and this one's got those matte tiles you mentioned later. I've gone ahead and drafted both for you to review; take your pick. Won't keep you from your work," Layla said, dropping off the designs before she left.

Isabel glanced over the revisions. The new tiles made a world of difference.

The makeup artist breezed in right afterward. "The designers are getting younger and cuter, huh? She could be a star if she wanted, with those looks."

"Wow, what a stunning design!" the makeup artist exclaimed, picking up the first draft.

"You really think it's that pretty?" Isabel muttered.

"Absolutely gorgeous! Hard to believe she's so young, yet her work's on par with top international designers. A spa in such a cozy setting would be divine. I'm booking the first appointment!"

Isabel pursed her lips. Why did her least favorite person have to be the one to nail her vision?

As Layla stepped into the elevator, she sported a confident smirk, eighty percent sure of her victory. Her study of psychology had paid off. Explaining herself would only have fueled Isabel's anger, but the stance she took would make Isabel trust her. And confidence in her own work was key.

...

By nine that evening, Layla was headed out from work. Some things could wait till tomorrow, but she was in no rush to return to her apartment and face the guy there - overtime was preferable.

What was he up to today? The thought alone was irritating.

As Layla exited the elevator, she heard Jennie's laughter.

"Mr. Holland, you're so funny"

In the living room, Jennie leaned into Samuel, her laughter unrestrained. Her hand rested on the back of the sofa behind him, their poses oozing intimacy.

Samuel threw Layla a sloppy, tipsy glance, but his eyes were sharp beneath it all, mocking, almost taunting.

Layla's instincts screamed to escape.

"Layla, there you are. Come on, have a drink with us," Jennie slurred as she stumbled over to grab her.

"I don't drink; I've got work to do."

"Don't be a party pooper. Have a little, relax! There's more to life than just work," Jennie insisted, pulling her into the living room.

The whiskey bottle on the table was already empty.

Layla stood awkwardly.

"No more whiskey, let me grab something else," Jennie offered from the bar. "You don't want whiskey, so how about wine? Maybe champagne? If there's anything I'm not short on, it's booze. Pick your poison - I've got it all."

Layla didn't want a drink; she just wanted to leave. Earlier she had been concerned that Samuel would hassle her again tonight. Turned out, she'd been worried for nothing. He seemed pretty taken with Jennie at the moment.

That's when he suddenly, with a buzzed clumsiness, grabbed her wrist.

"What the hell?" Layla tensed up, quickly shaking off his grip.

"Here she is! Boss Holland, let's keep the party going. What a blast tonight..." Jennie slurred, giggling as she pushed Layla back onto the couch. "Layla, how about some champagne? It's light, won't get you drunk."

"I don't want to drink."

"Huh?" Jennie's face was as red as a beet. She stared at her for a few seconds, then covered her mouth, surprised. "You're not... pregnant, are you?"

"I'm not," Layla said, denying it immediately.

"Ha! I'm just messing with you; look how worked up you are," Jennie chortled, playfully slapping her hand. "Getting pregnant now would totally ruin your future."

"You're not busting your butt at City University just to end up staying home with a baby, right?"

"Of course not."

"Yeah, that's the spirit. Men are unreliable. Make something of yourself while you're young, and the good ones will come chasing."

"You're right."

"But... what if you did end up pregnant now? What would you do?"

Samuel raised an eyebrow, took a sip of his whiskey, and watched her.

Layla bit her lip, then after a few seconds, "I'd end it."

"Wow, didn't peg you for being so ruthless at your age."

"Becoming a designer is my dream. I won't let anything stand in my way," Layla said, looking Samuel in the eye with determination.

If he hadn't taken her seriously before, she was making her stance crystal clear now. She would never cave to him!

Samuel sneered and set down his glass. "Drive me home."

"Sure thing, Boss Holland," Jennie said, wobbling up from the couch.

"I wasn't talking to you."

"Huh?" Jennie turned, looking puzzled at Layla, who immediately shook her head. "I'm leaving."

"You don't get to decide that," Samuel closed in, gripping her wrist again.

"Samuel... Boss Holland, let go," Layla struggled against his hold as he dragged her out of the living room.

"Boss Holland..." Jennie tried to follow but suddenly felt nauseous and ran for the bathroom, retching.