Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Laila

I entered the living room and spotted a woman who looked to be in her forties, maybe? She seemed younger, but if that guy was her son, she must have been older. She was strikingly beautiful, with piercing green eyes and flowing blonde hair. The blurry pixels during our video calls did nothing to do justice to her natural beauty, but now, standing before her in person, she looked absolutely stunning.

I quickly approached and extended my hand.

"Hello, Mrs. Montgomery, I’m sorry I’m a bit late."

She smiled warmly at me, her expression lighting up the room.

"Oh, don’t worry, dear! Welcome! Come in and sit down, Miss Apine! I hope I pronounced that correctly."

She didn’t quite get my surname right, but I kept my smile in place.

"Can I call you Laila?"

She smiled back, perhaps sensing the slight confusion in my face over the mispronunciation.

"Of course!" I replied, my tone friendly and reassuring.

"I was just sipping my tea. It’s my day off, so I’m not in any rush at all."

Her voice carried a comforting, almost motherly warmth. During our video calls, she had always seemed like a kind lady, and now, standing in front of her, I could see that it was true.

"Good to know," I said, smiling as I sat down on the beige sofa next to her. I started pulling out my laptop and portfolio, setting them on the glass coffee table in front of me. The living room was grand and elegant, with a posh Victorian-style decor—gold-toned curtains, a sand-colored oriental carpet, golden chandeliers, and countless paintings adorning the walls. There were five matching beige sofas in this one room alone. They must entertain guests often, I thought. I’d seen this room in photos and videos countless times, but now, standing in it, I already had a vision of what it would look like after the renovations.

"So, now that I’m finally here, let’s go over the details again," I began, glancing at her. "If, in the time since we last spoke, you’ve had any new ideas or if there’s anything you’d like to change, please let me know now."

I looked at her expectantly while continuing to pull out my materials. She seemed to be thinking for a moment before shaking her head.

"No, no new ideas or changes. I think you’ve really nailed the project, down to the smallest detail."

She smiled brightly at me, and I returned her smile with genuine appreciation.

"Good to know," I said. "Let’s just confirm everything again and go through the timeline."

At that moment, I heard the footsteps of the man I had seen earlier on the stairs. I didn’t look at him, but his presence was impossible to ignore. I could feel him approaching out of the corner of my eye, and his proximity was undeniably distracting. I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. There was no need to keep drooling over him; I’d already done enough of that.

I unlocked my laptop, beginning to click through various files related to the project. Despite my efforts to concentrate, I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between Mrs. Montgomery and her son.

"Ah, good morning, honey! Breakfast is in the kitchen. I’ll be having a short meeting with the house redecoration project manager here, and then I’ll join you."

Her voice was sweet as she spoke to him, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that was really her son. Wah, who cares?

"Will I bother you if I stay here?"

The guy’s deep baritone sent shivers down my spine. What the hell? Who reacts like this to just a voice? This had to be a red flag for me. I quickly glanced at him before forcing my eyes back to the screen. Now that he was in the room, I started to feel this strange nervousness creeping in. Why was a guy making me anxious? Was it a bad intuition thing, something I had felt as I drove here? Could he jeopardize the entire project? Should I be extra nice to him? I imagined my bosses would be furious if this project got canceled.

Am I overthinking this? Nothing has happened yet. But my hands were slightly trembling as I typed on the keyboard. F.uck. Get a grip! I can do this. It's not my first day in the market. I've handled tough clients before. The silence between Mrs. Montgomery and her son stretched on, until finally, she responded.

"Well, sure, honey... Come, sit! This is Laila. She’s from the Décor&Design company. As I mentioned, she’ll be the one redecorating our house. You probably remember that one of my good friends gave a glowing review of their work, and now, seeing the results for myself, I’m confident we’ll be in good hands. I truly believe Laila will make our modest home beautiful."

Her tone was sincere, which was a relief—when dealing with wealthy people, you could never be too sure what to expect. I smiled politely as she praised me and the company. It felt good to know that word of mouth had spread. Positive reviews meant more business, more opportunities, and, of course, more money.

"Thank you for the kind words, Mrs. Montgomery. I truly hope you’ll be as pleased with the results as I am. This project is especially interesting to me, and I’m excited about it."

I smiled genuinely at her. What I said wasn’t just a corporate response—it was true. I did enjoy the project, and it was one I was invested in.

Meanwhile, the handsome guy... I still didn’t know his name, and Mrs. Montgomery only referred to him as “honey.” So, Mr. Playboy had made himself comfortable on the opposite sofa, eyes fixed on us. I didn’t say anything; I just nodded at him with a tight smile. I was relieved that there was some distance, with a table separating us. The last thing I needed was him brushing up against me. The thought alone sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. What the h.ell? I couldn't dwell on that now—I had work to do.

I focused on reviewing the design ideas again, showing Mrs. Montgomery the pictures. But in my peripheral vision, I could feel Mr. Playboy’s intense gaze. I wasn’t sure how involved he was in the project, since all my conversations had been with Mrs. Montgomery. But I thought he might want to see the designs too. When I looked at him directly, it became clear: he wasn’t looking at the pictures at all. His eyes were locked on me, his attention entirely on me, not the work I was presenting.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

"Sir, would you like to see the project designs as well?"

He didn’t respond immediately, just continued staring at me with that blank expression. Did he hear me? His eyes were fixed on me, but it didn’t seem like he had caught a single word I said. Was this...?

"Mr. Montgomery?"

I asked again, a frown tugging at my brow. Did he not hear me? Was he zoning out while we discussed the project?

"Oh, I’m sorry... What were you saying?"

Are you for real? Had he honestly not heard a word I said? I thought he wanted to be involved, to see everything firsthand. As I looked into his eyes—his strikingly blue eyes—it was like I lost my train of thought for a moment. Something about those deep blues, his sharp jawline, his model-like face, and his well-built physique made my heart whisper that I could fall for a guy like him. But that whisper sent an instant alarm ringing in my rational mind. No. I don’t do model-perfect, I don’t do rich, I don’t do Americans, and I sure as h.ell don’t mix business with pleasure. A big fat NO.

Focus on the work. Get it together!

"Would you like to see the ideas for the redecoration?" I asked again, forcing a neutral expression onto my face. Let’s stay professional. I’ve got this.

"Sure!" he replied, giving a careless shrug.

What the...? His words didn’t quite match his actions, did they?