Chapter 47
Dahlia took back the certificate, waiting for Lucinda to say more. But Lucinda had already stood up.
"I'm heading upstairs. A little tired."
"Get some rest." Valencia added gently.
Lucinda went upstairs, returned to her room, and closed the door.
She walked to her desk, sat down, and opened her laptop. Several unread messages popped up on the screen.
She handled the pending matters, turned off the lights, and went to sleep.
The next morning, Lucinda went to Ethereal Jewel Studio.
The moment she walked in, a young man in a black suit approached her, holding a document, his expression somewhat ambiguous. "Boss, the results for the City Jewelry Design Competition are out."
Lucinda took the document and opened it.
First place: Dahlia.
Second place: Allegra.
Attached were their design sketches—one a butterfly brooch, the other an orchid pendant.
Looking at those two names, Lucinda was a bit surprised.
She hadn't expected the first and second places to go to them.
She looked at the two sketches and suddenly noticed something. Her lips curved slightly.
Tamsin walked out from inside, holding a cup of coffee. She leaned over to look and frowned. "This level can win first place? The proportions on the butterfly wings are all wrong. The setting for the tiny diamonds is way too outdated. And this second place—"
She pointed at Allegra's design. "The lines on the orchid are decent, but the overall composition is too crowded. No negative space. It's exhausting to look at. Though... the overall design inspiration for both of these feels oddly familiar somehow."
She shook her head and took a sip of coffee. "Competitions these days—the quality gets worse every year."
Lucinda closed the document and set it on the table. "Don't worry about it. Let's get to work. We've got a mountain of orders to fill."
Tamsin opened her mouth, then closed it again.
If the studio weren't so swamped, she'd have wanted Lucinda to enter that competition herself—to show those people what a true masterpiece looked like.
By the time Lucinda looked up from her work, it was already pitch dark outside.
She glanced down at her phone. The screen was filled with unread messages and several missed calls—all from Reginald.
She'd been so busy all day, she'd completely forgotten about him.
She quickly sent a reply: [Just finished. Send me your location.]
The message was read in less than a second.
The location came back instantly—near the Douglas Estate—followed by a message: [Wait for me. I'll come get you.]
Lucinda grabbed her coat and left, hailing a car toward home.
The car stopped at the intersection. From a distance, she could already see the black Maybach and the figure leaning against the car door.
He stood with his head down, his coat billowing slightly in the night breeze, phone in hand. The screen's glow illuminated his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his features.
She pushed open the car door and stepped out. The moment she steadied herself, a figure strode toward her.
Reginald pulled her into his arms, his grip tight, his chin resting on the top of her head, his breathing unsteady.
Lucinda was held so tightly she could barely breathe. Her face was buried against his chest, her nose filled with the scent of pine that clung to him.
She could hear his heartbeat—fast, unlike the calm and composed Reginald she usually saw.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you today? You didn't reply to my messages. Didn't answer my calls. I almost thought something had happened to you!" His voice was muffled, coming from above her head, hoarse.
Lucinda looked into his eyes. They were bloodshot. He looked utterly exhausted.
"I know. Should we get dinner?"
Reginald looked at her breezy demeanor, then reached out and took her hand, interlacing their fingers. He looked down at their clasped hands, then lifted his gaze, his tone serious. "From now on, I'm not letting go of your hand."
Lucinda looked down at their intertwined hands. His hand was large, enveloping hers completely.
She didn't say anything. But she didn't pull away either. She followed him into the car.
Reginald took her to a quiet restaurant. He hadn't reserved the whole place, but he'd booked the most private room in the back.
He held her hand the entire time. Even while eating, he didn't let go. Using his left hand awkwardly, he tried to spear a piece of salmon for her. The utensil wasn't steady, and the fish slid across the plate.
Lucinda watched his stubborn "I'm not letting go" attitude, her lips curving slightly. She lowered her head and ate the salmon he'd managed to get onto her plate.
After dinner, he drove her home.
The car stopped in the usual spot. The two walked to the entrance. Reginald looked at her, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment. "Tomorrow morning, I'll pick you up for work. You'll wait for me, right?"
Lucinda looked at the careful hope in his eyes, stayed silent for a second, then nodded. "Okay."
Reginald's lips curved upward, a smile spreading from his eyes.
He looked at her for another two seconds, then let go of her hand and stepped back. "Go on in. Get some rest."
Lucinda turned, pushed open the door, and walked inside.
The door closed slowly behind her. She leaned against it, looking down at her hand—the spot he'd been holding still warm.
Her heartbeat was a little faster than usual. But her expression didn't change.
She slipped her hand into her pocket, changed her shoes, and walked into the house, her steps light.
The next morning, just as dawn broke, Reginald's car was already parked around the corner near the Douglas Estate.
Before seven-thirty, that familiar figure appeared at the entrance.
Lucinda wore a black suit jacket today, with a white undershirt beneath. Her hair was pulled back, revealing a slender neck.
She carried her bag, her steps unhurried. The morning sunlight fell on her shoulders. She looked cool and composed.
Reginald's lips curved upward. He reached out and opened the passenger door, holding his hand over the frame. After she got in, he walked around to the driver's seat.
The car pulled out from the corner and headed toward Ridgeway Tech.
One hand on the steering wheel, he reached over naturally with the other and took her hand.
Lucinda looked down at their joined hands. She didn't pull away.