36

36
Arlene
Work, Arlene, work.
I couldn’t even concentrate on the mountains of documents in front of me.
I stared blankly at my laptop screen, attempting to focus on the flood of emails and documents awaiting my attention.
Yet, Liam’s face and his words from last night kept barging into my mind, uninvited and unwelcome.
Firstly, why would he suddenly help me? That question haunted me repeatedly at night. I could barely sleep.
How on earth did he discern that I needed help, and why did he do it? What were his intentions?
And just when I’m okay with just being the baby’s father and alleged boyfriend, he had to go overboard by proposing.
Had he planned it all?
Thinking about the proposal, it wasn’t romantic—not in the traditional sense.
It was calculated and practical, but it still left me rattled. I glanced down at my finger, the one where he’d slid the ring.
The cool metal had been there briefly until this morning, when I had to pull it off, but it left an impression that lingered.
Cole didn’t propose to me back then. His father did that for him, and not with a ring—there was no gesture remotely like Liam’s.
It was a new feeling altogether, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
My lips twitched involuntarily as I stared at the blank Word document on my screen. I was supposed to be drafting a product launch strategy after failing woefully to comprehend the one the skincare products team had sent to me, but my mind refused to cooperate.
Frustrated, I leaned back in my chair just as Matilda entered, holding a neatly wrapped parcel.
“A parcel for you, Miss Gomez,” she announced, placing it on my desk.
I frowned, glancing at the package suspiciously. “Who’s it from?”
“It’s from Mr. Liam Walker,” she replied with a knowing look.
Of course. Who else would have the audacity? Irritation flared, and I felt my jaw tighten. The man was utterly impossible. What game was he playing now?
“Dispose of it,” I said sharply, waving a dismissive hand.
Matilda hesitated, her gaze dropping to my bare finger. “Your finger is bare,” she said, her voice cautious.
“I don’t need to wear that everywhere, do I?” I raised an eyebrow, daring her to argue.
“Your stepmother could walk in and cause a fuss if she notices,” she said. “I strongly believe her visit here yesterday had everything to do with the news getting a hold of your pregnant state. She is definitely not backing down on pulling you to the dirt.”
“Leave Mirela to me,” I snapped. “Now, get rid of that thing.”
I knew I had to worry about my stepmother, but another person had me wondering more: Liam.
Matilda didn’t move. Instead, she folded her arms and tilted her head, clearly weighing her next words. “Miss Gomez, perhaps it would be wise to at least thank Mr. Walker. He might only be doing this to make the arrangement look authentic.”
I let out a sigh, her logic making an irritating amount of sense. “Fine,” I relented. “Prepare a contract binding a two-month relationship. I want everything clear and professional so I can formally stop his authentic show of affection.”
Reluctantly, I gestured for her to fetch Liam’s office contact. Moments later, I had him on the line.
The call went through, and some lady spoke from across it. I told her I wanted the call directly transferred to Liam.
“What are you planning, Liam?” I snapped as soon as he picked up. “There’s no way in hell I’m accepting any gift from you.”
There was a pause, and for a moment, I thought I’d hit a nerve. A smirk crept onto my face. Maybe he was sulking. But then came a low chuckle, one that sent a shiver down my spine.
“Stop imagining things, Arlene,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “Not everything’s about you.”
Before I could respond, he hung up, leaving me staring at the phone in disbelief. The audacity of that man was unreal. Too unreal.
“Open it,” I barked at Matilda, more out of frustration than curiosity.
She carefully unwrapped the parcel, revealing Liam’s jacket from the previous night. It was still stained. Alongside it was a wad of cash—my cash—and a note.
I snatched the note and read it aloud.
‘What’s this peanut for? Get me the jacket, and we’ll see if you’ll stay afloat after purchasing one.’
At the bottom of the note was a single, taunting letter: L.
I scoffed, crumpling the note and tossing it into the trash. “Unbelievable.”
Matilda suppressed a smile but didn’t comment. “Should I—?”
“Buy the most expensive jacket from a top designer brand,” I said, cutting her off. “Have it delivered to Mr. Walker immediately.”
Funny how I’d initially thought he was sending me a gift. Thinking about it only made his antics more infuriating.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, turning to go.
“You know what? Make it two.”
Matilda bowed slightly and left to carry out my orders.
What sort of guts did he have?
Not long after, someone knocked on my door, carrying a folder with a design submission. I didn’t bother looking up. “Send Daisy in with it,” I said curtly.
Minutes later, Daisy walked in, holding another design. I immediately recognized it as something that wasn’t her work.
“Did you draw this?” I asked, holding the paper up to her.
“Yes,” she muttered, her voice confident, but her eyes betrayed her nervousness.
I glanced at the design briefly before tossing it aside. “It’s lacking. Something’s missing.”
Daisy stiffened, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“Do it again,” I ordered. “Right here, right now.”
Her face turned red, and she shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll bring a new one tomorrow.”
“No,” I snarled with a saccharine smile. “You’ll do it now. I’d love to see how much you’ve improved. Unless, of course, this is another one of Mirela’s stunts.”
Daisy glared at me, her hands balling into fists. But before she could retort, Matilda returned.
“Miss Gomez, you have a meeting with the new product team,” she announced. Then, with a small smile, she added, “The jacket has been sent to Mr. Walker.”
I turned back to Daisy, my expression as sweet as honey. “Make yourself comfortable, dear sister. Take all the time you need.”
As I stood, I leaned in slightly and lowered my voice. “And be careful, Daisy. Whatever you do here will be keenly watched later on.”
Without waiting for a response, I left the room, my heels clicking against the floor as I strode out. Behind me, I could almost feel Daisy’s simmering anger.
Good. Let her stew.