Chapter 24

Clara's PoV

"I'll take care of it," I said.

Layla slapped her hands together, enthusiasm shining in her eyes. Layla responded, "All right, let's get going as quickly as possible."

She opened the door wider so I could enter the apartment.

I went into the suite.

Expensive French food was served on the table, with a lobster expertly put on the platter, with an empty glass and an unopened bottle of wine.

"We need to get going on this right now." She hung up. "It's a simple idea; all you have to do is hold him down long enough for me to do the hard lifting and get Madison out of the way." She clarified.

By "destroy Derek," what did she mean? I would never do that, so hopefully, it had nothing to do with my thinking.

"I'll stick to the plan, but I won't feel at ease with..." I became quiet.

She understood my thoughts.

"Not." She responded. "You could have been pregnant by now if I had believed you could handle it." She made a point.

Was it meant to be offensive? In any case, I was relieved it wasn't in her original plan.

"Now, you're supposed to come over to my home tomorrow at eight o'clock, and we'll be giving you a little makeover." With enthusiasm, she said.

Hold on, tomorrow?

"I was just appointed, so I can't miss work already," I said.

"Do you have no idea how to take advantage of an opportunity when you see one?" She let out a sigh. "Tell him you're unwell in the morning. If there's an issue with your manager, we'll have to fire him." She answered casually.

I despise Marcus, but I didn't want this to cause anybody to lose their job.

"That won't be necessary," I said.

"All right, I'll send my driver to pick you up at my place tomorrow morning. There is a ton of work ahead of us." She said, She gave me another glance and shook her head angrily.

Do you not believe that a makeover would be a little excessive? I answered, "I don't believe it would be necessary."

A redesign would, if anything, heighten the suspicion around this.

She sighed once more.

"Clara, you are a lovely girl. Look at you. However, this implies that Derek must be seen with you if we proceed. I would feel ashamed to be seen with you right now." Says she.

One more slight. It was like a kick to the belly this time.

At what she said, my eyes became wide. She was already plotting her next insult before I had a chance to respond to hers appropriately.

"What do you use to shampoo your hair? It seems arid, much like your lips." She made a point. "My driver will deliver a few items to you. Tomorrow, we'll continue this topic. You ought to go out front. No one should see us together. She said,

Her remarks made me aware of how I looked. Even though my hair could have utilised a little more hydration, it was in excellent condition.

My tongue skimmed across my lips. It served only to support her assertions.

"We will go on tomorrow. You ought to go right now. I'll go out a little later to avoid being seen together." She said,

I turned to leave the apartment, nodding. Before leaving, I looked in every way.

I kept going down the corridor without knowing what the next assignment was. I used to have a timetable informing me what must be done.

That's when Madison and I met.

She was coming at me, strutting her stuff like she was walking the catwalk, her hair flying over her shoulders.

I wanted her to stay away from me. I was still unsure how to respond when she inquired about "our" arrangement.

I pivoted, making my way to the elevator in the other direction.

Fortunately, she was blind to me.

I let out a sigh of relief as the lift doors shut.

With Madison, I escaped with my life.

I pushed the following floor's button. Even so, where was I going?

I sighed and turned to leave the elevator, strolling down the hallway without a purpose.

Derek was coming toward me, so I guess I had just avoided one bullet to walk into another. He spotted me, so there was no way I could hide again. His expression flickered from one of mild amusement to one of perplexity and then a menacing "What are you doing here?"

Terrified, I froze there and gazed at him.

"Clara," he said. "You should be working, don't you?" He enquired.

"Why are you in this place?" I sidestepped the question.

"Since you're here, I may as well ask you a question, even though I was just visiting a customer." He stopped. "Have you ever seen a weird lady around here? Aged. The person who walked in the other day, with dark hair and fine clothing." He said.

A frown furrowed my forehead. "You refer to your mom?" So I did.

"Yes," he nodded in response.

Yes, but no. Nowhere did I see her. I doubt she was present—my lie.

"Well, earlier, I did see her driver. I can tell from past encounters that she's up to something," he said.

"Perhaps you're simply exaggerating," I said.

"Perhaps," he said.

He paused to consider.

He must have known his mother well.

"You know, I genuinely believe we need to get to know one another. What if we ate supper together tonight?" He recommended it.

Is Derek alone at the diner? I couldn't lie to him and yet gaze at him for the whole night.

I said, "Maybe another day; I'm extremely weary."

He gave me a little grin and stopped objecting to my choice.

I pivoted, getting ready to go.

Was there a wounded expression on his face?

Madison was approaching, so I was a magnet for trouble today.

Her face lit up with a grin as she saw Derek.

Derek's body tightened, and I could feel his emotions shift. He was not pleased to see her either.

"Derek," Madison barked into the room. "You are there," Madison crooned.

"I'm going now," Derek said.

He started to back away, but Madison caught him in the act.

I stared at them aggressively as I stood there with my arms crossed. I'm sure they can't see me at the moment.

"We need to start working on our side project, so we should meet again tonight." Madison made a flirtatious move.

She tried to give him a playful smack on the arm, but Derek backed off.

I was unable to view this.

If Layla discovered that I turned down this excellent chance and drove him straight into her arms, she would murder me.

"I'm sorry, sir," I cut him off.

Madison's face sprung to attention the moment she realised I was there.

"I just wanted to let you know you have supper tonight," I said.

Derek looked at me in confusion.

Madison gave me a harsh look, a thin line of her lips pressing against mine. I didn't care, however.

"You know, the one about which you inquired just now?" I went on.

Derek realized something and glanced at me.

Yes, about six thirty, I said. He ran his hands through his hair to reassure himself. "This evening, I cannot work on the project. How long that supper will last is a mystery." He stopped. "However, you are welcome to come to my office during business hours to discuss the project. We can speak with a panel of individuals about the idea. That will facilitate progress," he said.

Madison wasn't too happy with the proposal, I could tell.

That gave me great pleasure.

"It would be fantastic," feigned a grin by Madison. She said, "I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then."

"I'll be occupied," Derek said, reaching into his pockets.

Madison pretended to grin again and turned to go, clearly dissatisfied.

My face broke into a big grin that would not go away. It still amazes me that I did it just now.

I had to return to reality since Derek was focusing all of his attention on me right now.

I tried to hide my grin by clearing my throat. "Sharp on five-thirty. Being late is something I dislike in others. We'll get together at the rear entrance. I Said I.

Derek gave me a perplexed look as he considered whether or not I had been kidding.

I didn't give my choice much thought since I turned around and left before he could say anything more.

Why had I thought that? Joining Derek on a date. Every woman who is going to despise me.

Thirty-five: why? I had no time to go home and change into something more respectable after that. Not that there was a date, but my work attire wasn't precisely date-appropriate."

Before I had a chance to consider this any further, Marcus texted me. I was getting a call from him at work.

Instead of providing me with a lengthy list of errands to complete, Marcus sat me down and gave me some background on his role as a manager. For the flowers we would need for next week's lobby, we gave a few florists a call. We also checked that the work plan for the next week had been completed and made a few calls to the catering service. Marcus's day job is much more than just keeping an eye on Ivy and myself.

Finally, after working for hours, it was five p.m., which meant my shift was over. And my date is in just 30 minutes.

Frantically, I left Marcus's office. I asked Derek to meet me at five thirty, and what was I doing?

Ivy might be able to assist me.

I knew that Ivy would most likely be getting ready to go home in the women's locker room. Today, our shift concludes at the same time.

I hurried to the changing area, praying that Madison or Derek wouldn't see me.

As expected, Ivy was in the changing area.

She was fumbling with several paper bags, most likely containing the meals she had placed her order with at the restaurant.

"Do you need assistance?" Maggie made Ivy an offer.

"Please back off," she said in a combative manner.

Maggie turned aside, moving out of the locker room and away from Ivy.

As they exited the changing area, several ladies gave Ivy strange looks.

I went up to Ivy.

She yelled, "There you are!"

I said to her, "I need your assistance."

I was relieved to see nobody was staring at us as I glanced around the room.

"What's that?" Ivy inquired about attempting to arrange the food to be easier to hold.

I said, "Derek and I are going out tonight."

Ivy let go of everything in her grasp. Her face was up in astonishment as she fixed her big eyes on me.

Ivy said, "We have a lot of work to do."

Immediately in front of our lockers, Ivy pushed me onto the bench.

She went to her locker and looked for a makeup bag.

Ivy was the only one remaining in the room, so I closed it. If one thing was evident, no one wanted to spend any longer at work than was necessary.

"What is the purpose of having everything in your locker?" So I did.

"If I run across a gorgeous, wealthy man who just so happens to be visiting and invites me out on a date," she said. She said, "Why don't you keep anything in your locker?"

She undoubtedly wondered what needed to be corrected as she glanced at me.

"Tighten the hair," Ivy indicated.

I said, running my hands over my tidy, low ponytail, "My hair looks perfect."

"You seem to be his employee rather than his date. You'll be asked whether you work as his assistant to others. She responded. "I'll rip that hair and do it myself if you don't loosen it." She made a threat. She wasn't joking, in my opinion.

I let my hair hang free and cascade over my shoulders.

"There's so much to do—hair, makeup, finding another outfit, shaving your legs, etc.—there's never enough time." Ivy groaned.

"I have no time for that kind of stuff. I replied, "We are getting together at 5:30.

Why were you unable to propose eight o'clock? You seem disorganised." Ivy cried out.

She turned to face her locker and removed the cosmetic bag, passing it to me.

"While I attempt to find you something to wear, you do something with your face," she remarked.

Then she bolted from the changing area.

I took a peek at what was in the cosmetic bag.

I opted for a basic appearance, using lip gloss and mascara. Makeup was never my strong suit. I still felt like I might stab my eyeballs out.

Ivy returned a few minutes later, clutching a black dress. It had straps and was short. It was always necklined in hearts. The garment would hug every curve on my body. It was exquisite.

"This clothing is mine. Months ago, one of the motel guests moved out. Nobody is searching for it, I'm sure of it. It's also your size." Ivy uttered a gasp.

I had five minutes left before I was considered officially late.

It was much harder to get into the garment, particularly with Ivy attempting to brush my hair.

Ivy made a few touch-ups since I couldn't apply makeup well, which gave my eyes a smoky appearance. My blue eyes gleamed at that.

Ivy grinned as she reviewed the outcomes. "My lovely caterpillar became an even more stunning butterfly."

I exclaimed, "You are a lifesaver, thank you very much," as I peered into Ivy's mirror.

"I'll have a front-row seat for your wedding, so don't worry." She responded. "This is going to be necessary." She gave lip gloss to me.

Ivy hurried me out before I could appreciate her excellent job anymore.

I put the outfit I had on earlier and my work uniform in my locker. That was my last walk before Ivy pulled me from the space.

Recall that you should constantly seem engaged, regardless of how dull he looks. We don't want the garment to break. Therefore, you shouldn't overeat," grumbled Ivy.

I muttered to Ivy, "Calm down." "In actuality, we're not going on a date. In addition, I've got this," I told her.

Alright, just be who you are. He'll realise how amazing you are as well." She responded. I'll lead you to the rear entry door; just come on. What kind of vehicle is he driving?

We strolled along as she hocked my arm into hers.

What if my time was wasted? Imagine if Derek never showed up. I had first told him no, after all.

I should have stopped thinking about him when he emerged out of nowhere.

He approached us, one hand in his pocket. His hair was combed back, and he wore a royal blue suit.

Ivy had been rumbling about her grandma with her eyes fixed downward, so she hadn't seen Derek.

Derek, however, spotted us.

This cannot be taking place. Derek couldn't see Ivy. Not after the last time they behaved toward one another.

Derek could realize that the whole hospital performance was a hoax if he learned about Ivy. You never know what he would do.

Though I may have escaped his fury, will Ivy also be spared?

It was going to be a disastrous finale to this day.

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