The road was clear, and the drive was quiet, with Mr Louis behind the wheel and Layla sitting in the front passenger seat. Logan was in the back, lost in his own thoughts. Layla would occasionally glance up at the rearview mirror, catching glimpses of Logan's introspective expression.
As she looked up again, she found Logan deep in serious thought, his brow furrowed in concentration. His eyes seemed a million miles away, his mind preoccupied with something that weighed heavily on his mind.
Layla's curiosity was piqued, but she didn't dare ask what was on his mind. Instead, she returned her gaze to the road ahead, leaving Logan to his thoughts.
Logan's fingers drummed a beat on his knee as he struggled to find a convincing reason to persuade Layla to join him in Paris. Every idea that came to mind seemed flawed, and he knew he needed something more compelling. Initially, Layla wasn't meant to be part of the trip, and she hadn't made any plans to go, so he faced an uphill battle.
Just as he was about to give up, a brilliant idea struck him. His fingers stilled, and a slow smile spread across his face as he thought through the details. The more he considered it, the more perfect it seemed. He had found the perfect way , now all he needed to get to Layla.
When they arrived at the airport, Mr Louis skillfully maneuvered the car into a convenient spot to unload the luggage. He efficiently retrieved Logan's bag from the trunk, while Layla, holding a sleek file bag, fell into step behind Logan as they walked towards the terminal.
Mr Louis followed closely, his eyes scanning the surroundings to ensure a smooth and hassle-free departure.
Then, suddenly, Mr Logan came to a pause in his walking, and Layla, who was walking directly behind him, immediately halted her step to avoid colliding with him. Mr Logan's eyes carefully darted from Layla to Mr Louis, a sly smile spreading across his face as he thought to himself, "My wonderful idea is about to hit reality."
"Are you forgetting anything?" Layla asked, noticing the movement of his eyes and the subtle smile on his face.He quickly regained his usual serious composure, his smile vanishing as he asked in a stern tone, "Where is your luggage?"
Layla turned around, confused, not realizing what he was thinking. "Sir?" she replied, her voice laced with wonder, as she tried to understand the sudden question.
Then it dawned on her, and she maintained her polite smile as she replied, "I'm not going to Paris with you, sir."
Mr Logan's expression turned stern, his eyes narrowing slightly as he asked, "Why not?"
Layla's smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, her voice remaining steady and respectful.
Layla, clearly perplexed, slowly turned to Mr Louis, her eyes seeking help or clarification, before shifting her gaze back to Mr Logan. "I just booked your ticket, and besides, you never told me I was going to Paris, sir," she replied, her voice laced with confusion.
She tried to read Mr Logan's expression, searching for a hint of what was driving his sudden behavior. But his eyes, usually so easy to decipher, were now an enigma. Layla's gaze lingered on his, trying to understand the thoughts behind them, but they seemed to be shrouded in mystery.
Mr Logan's face remained impassive, his eyes never leaving Layla's, as if willing her to accept his sudden decree. The air was thick with tension, the silence between them palpable, as Layla waited for an explanation that seemed reluctant to come.
Logan turned around, his frustration evident, and then looked closely at Layla, who stood there with no idea of what was going on. "You are coming with me to Paris," he repeated, his voice firm.
Layla's eyes widened, her smile gone, replaced by shock and uncertainty. She hadn't expected this sudden turn of events, and she wasn't sure how to respond. Her curiosity couldn't hold back as she immediately shouted out, "But why?"
Layla quickly regained her composure, fixing a bright smile on her face as she tried to deflect Mr Logan's sudden demand. "But why, sir?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of innocence. "Mr Thomas is already in Paris, and I don't have any of my things with me," she added, trying to come up with a perfect excuse.
She rummaged through her mind, searching for more reasons to dissuade Mr. Logan. "Besides, sir, I have work to catch up on, and I'm sure Mr. Thomas can handle whatever it is you need him to do," she continued, hoping to appeal to Mr. Logan's practical side.
But Mr Logan's expression remained resolute, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement at Layla's attempts to wriggle out of the situation. "Mr Thomas is not the right person for this task, Layla," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "And as for your things, yo can buy whatever you need in Paris, Just call the caretaker and tell her all you need. You're coming with me, Layla. It's not a request."
Layla's mind racing, she quickly thought of more excuses, hoping to find one that would stick. "I didn't book a flight for myself, and besides, my passport isn't here," she said, thinking she had come up with a foolproof reason.
But Mr Logan's expression didn't change, his eyes still fixed on hers with an unwavering determination. "What class of flight did you book?" Mr. Logan asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Layla heard Mr. Louis snicker and saw the smile on his face, but she didn't dare look at him. "A business class," she replied, already knowing what Mr. Logan would say next.
"And I'm sure you paid for the whole seat," Mr. Logan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Layla nodded sheepishly, having no other way to extricate herself from the situation. She wondered why Mr Logan did not tell her she was going with him instead of making her realize it gradually.
"Why are you doing this, sir?" Layla asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Why can't Mr Thomas handle it?"
Mr Logan's smile grew wider, but his eyes seemed to cloud over, as if a memory had suddenly resurfaced. "Let's just say, Layla, that this is a matter that requires your... unique skills."
Layla wondered what unique skills Mr. Logan was talking about. She was literally clumsy in everything - she tripped over her own feet, spilled coffee on her shirt, and knocked over vases. What could Mr Logan possibly need her for?
"Mr Louis, you can hand it over to her," Mr Logan said, his eyes fixed on Layla as he continued walking ahead.
Mr Louis, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nodded and handed Layla the luggage, bowing his head slightly towards Mr Logan. "Safe trip," he said with a gentle smile, before turning and walking away.
Layla watched him go, feeling a sense of desperation wash over her. She never expected to be on a trip with Mr. Logan, and she only hoped that the earth would open up and swallow her whole. She felt like she was being swept up in a whirlwind, with no control over her own destiny.
With a deep sigh, Layla grasped the luggage handle and followed Mr. Logan, her mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead.
As she walked slowly behind Mr Logan, Layla quickly brought out her phone and dialed Thea's number, but it went straight to voicemail. She left a frantic message, trying to convey the panic and desperation she felt.
"Thea, it's me! Oh my god, you won't believe what's happening. I'm being dragged on a trip to Paris with Mr Logan! I know, I know, it sounds crazy. I didn't even pack or anything. He just showed up and told me I'm coming with him. I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm being kidnapped or something. Call me back as soon as you get this. Please, please, please. I need your help."
Layla hung up, feeling a bit better after venting to her best friend. She hoped Thea would call her back soon and offer some advice or maybe even a rescue plan. As she continued walking, Layla couldn't help but wonder what other surprises this day had in store for her.
Layla knew she had to call the caretaker in Paris to arrange for her something she needed, but she felt drained and overwhelmed. She didn't have the energy to make the call, so she decided to send a text message instead.
With trembling fingers, Layla typed out a message, trying to keep it brief and to the point. "Hi, Madame Colette. I'm arriving in Paris tonight with Mr. Logan. Can you please arrange for some essentials to be ready for me at the apartment? I'll need nighties, clothes for tomorrow and some toiletries. I'll go shopping for more later. Thanks."
Layla hesitated for a moment before hitting send. She felt a mix of emotions, anxiety about the unexpected trip, relief that she didn't have to make the call, and gratitude for Colette's reliability.
As she walked behind Mr. Logan, Layla wondered what the rest of the day had in store for her. She felt like a small boat adrift in a stormy sea, at the mercy of forces beyond her control. All she could do was hold on tight and hope for the best.
As Layla settled into her seat in the business class, she couldn't help but feel a sense of luxury wash over her. The soft, plush leather enveloped her like a warm hug, and the ample legroom allowed her to stretch out in comfort. She gazed around in wonder, taking in the elegant decor and the attentive flight attendants who offered her a warm smile and a refreshing towel.
Mr Logan, meanwhile, was greeted like an old friend by the flight attendants, who showed him to his seat across the aisle from Layla. He settled in with ease, his eyes scanning the cabin as if to ensure everything was to his liking.
As the plane began to taxi down the runway, Layla felt a thrill of excitement mixed with a dash of fear. She was really doing this, flying to Paris with her demanding
boss, with no idea what lay ahead. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, and gazed out the window as the plane lifted off into the sky.
The business class was indeed a different world, Layla thought, as she sipped a glass of champagne and nibbled on a delicate canapé. She felt like royalty, pampered and indulged, and for a moment, she forgot about the chaos that had brought her here. But as she glanced over at Mr. Logan, who was working on his laptop with his usual intensity, Layla was reminded that this trip was far from a pleasure cruise.
As Layla gazed at Mr. Logan, she realized why he had booked the entire business class. He wasn't just trying to ensure his comfort, he needed the privacy and quiet to focus on his work. The seriousness with which he attacked his papers and laptop was a testament to the importance of this trip.
Layla's curiosity got the better of her, and she wondered what could be so critical that Mr Logan needed to work on it during the flight. She leaned back in her seat, trying to be unobtrusive while still observing her boss.
As the plane hit cruising altitude, Mr Logan looked up, his eyes locking onto Layla's. For a moment, they just stared at each other, and Layla felt like he could see right through her. Then, he nodded curtly and returned to his work, leaving Layla to wonder what had just passed between them.
The flight attendants came by to offer her another drink, and Layla asked for a coffee, trying to shake off the feeling that she was in over her head. As she sipped her coffee, she couldn't help but steal glances at Mr Logan, trying to decipher the mystery that surrounded him.
As the plane soared through the skies, Layla's eyelids began to droop, the warmth of the business class cabin and the gentle hum of the engines lulling her into a state of relaxation. She tried to fight it, but her body had other plans.
Her head nodded forward, and she jerked it back up, trying to stay awake. But it was no use. Her eyes grew heavier, and she felt herself drifting off into a peaceful slumber.
The last thing she remembered was Mr Logan's intense gaze, his eyes fixed on some point beyond her, his expression a mask of concentration. Then, everything went dark.
Layla slept soundly, oblivious to the world around her, as the plane flew on, carrying her towards a destination that held secrets and surprises she couldn't even begin to imagine.
Layla's eyes fluttered open, groggily taking in her surroundings. She was disoriented, unsure of where she was or how she got there. But as her gaze focused, she saw Mr Logan standing over her, a hint of a smile on his face.
"We're here," he repeated, his voice low and gentle.
Layla struggled to sit up, shaking off the fogginess of sleep. She noticed that she was covered with a soft duvet, and her body was reclined in a comfortable position, not the way she had fallen asleep. Someone had clearly tended to her while she slept.
Mr Logan offered her a hand, helping her up from the seat. Layla took it, still trying to clear her head. As she stood, she saw that the plane was empty, except for a few flight attendant. She must have slept for so long.
"Welcome to Paris," Mr Logan said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You slept through the entire flight."
Layla rubbed her eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I guess I did," she admitted, trying to smooth out her rumpled clothes.
Mr Logan chuckled and handed her the file bag where important files and his laptop was . "I took the liberty of getting it back into the bag. "He said reminding her that it was part of her duty but she slept throughout the entire flight. Shall we?"...