Song Rec:- Slow It Down — Benson Boone.
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It's been over two weeks since I left my parents' house that morning, deleting and blocking their phone numbers as we rode away at 6 a.m. Stella bade us farewell.
Some things cannot be mended once they're broken, regardless of the bond that existed before. It's clear they've chosen the daughter they want to raise, and I've chosen to protect mine from them.
I sent my resignation letter the day after I left, turning down the car my parents had offered and instead purchasing my own with the money I'd saved from my time in Ireland.
The deal for the site of my law firm was finalized, and the furnishings and renovations would be complete in just a few days. I also found a small apartment on Cuzon Street, where I stayed with Reese.
She barely had time to miss her grandparents, as she was swamped with schoolwork. I'd taken on the responsibility of coming over an hour before school ended to pick her up.
While waiting for her, I reviewed the firm's website and went through the applications of several lawyers and support staff, including cleaners, cooks, and security guards.
I noticed a few members of my parents' legal team had applied as well. I initially wanted to turn them down, not wishing to appear competitive or take anything from them, but they claimed the paycheck was better and covered transport expenses for those living nearby. Since my parents didn't own them, I hired them anyway.
After school, Castiel usually brought Reese to me on Thursdays and Fridays. That's when I learned he was a substitute teacher—information that slipped out through Bradley's lips.
Ever since the police station incident, Castiel hadn't spoken a word to me, which weighed heavily on my conscience. For his information, the culprit received ten times the punishment, and from what I heard before leaving, my parents took the idiot to the hospital.
With a growing workforce in place, the next step was to seek investors and potential patrons for the firm.
Attending the brunch party had been beneficial. One night, I scrolled through my contact list, searching for people I'd met that day. I stumbled upon a name: Darwin Kings.
Curious, I did some online research, browsing through various websites and blogs until I was confident he was the right person. Darwin Kings, a 45-year-old CEO of a prestigious car company, isn't just wealthy; he also has a stellar reputation for making smart investments.
Wherever Darwin invests, his allies tend to follow suit because he's never backed a failing project. Nobody knows how he does it, but if one investor can lead to another, I was eager to work with him.
The enticing part was that even my parents couldn't get him to invest in LB. If I could pull this off, it would be a significant blow to them.
I called Darwin, and he seemed genuinely pleased to hear from me, reminiscing about the legal tips I had shared during our brief conversation at brunch. I scheduled an appointment for the next day, excited to discuss my proposal.
The next morning, I woke up early to get Reese ready for school, grabbing breakfast at a café while waiting for her lunch order. After packing it into the car, I dropped her off.
By 9 a.m., I adjusted my pink two-piece suit—a cropped blazer and high-waisted trousers—before stepping out of my car and entering the impressive glass building labeled "Dar-Cars" in italic sans serif font.
The receptionist escorted me to his office on the top floor. As I entered, I found Darwin behind his desk, poring over a few files with a cigarette in hand, which he quickly extinguished in an ashtray upon seeing me.
The lingering smell of smoke was hard to ignore, but I smiled brightly. "Good morning, Mr. King."
"It's a pleasure to have you here, Ms. Loughton. Please, have a seat," he replied as I settled into the chair across from him.
"I hear you're building your own firm. Breaking free from mommy and daddy, ay?"
I laughed. "I guess you could say that."
"Congratulations! What can I do for you?" he asked.
"Anything will do."
He leaned back in his chair and picked up the phone. "Rose, bring me a fine glass of whiskey—"
"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't drink," I calmly interjected.
At least, not anymore.
Darwin flashed a bright smile before rephrasing. "Then get a glass of blueberry mocktail and a beer," he ordered, ending the call and turning back to me. "So, you mentioned you had something important to discuss?"
"Yes, sir," I replied.
"Let's not be too formal. Chat to me, what do you want me to do for you?"
"Well, it's not just about what you can do for me; I'm also willing to offer something in return. Would you like to invest in my firm?"
He clicked his tongue and leaned forward, clasping his fingers on the desk.
"I'd love to, Elspeth. I genuinely do. But..."
"But what?"
"As much as I shouldn't prioritize these things, reputation is vital in business. With the rumors surrounding you and speculation about your motherhood situation, I don't believe it reflects well on the company."
"Oh…" I murmured, feeling as if he had salted an open wound.
As I pondered on these rumors, I only realized that it wasn't just that people hated single mothers. It was the nature of my daughter's conception, the fact that I'd had multiple admirers and conspicuous families eager to bond with mine through marriage.
These circumstances had sowed resentment among many, painting me as irresponsible and promiscuous. I couldn't even share who the father was; nobody would believe it anyway.
When the drinks arrived a moment later, an idea crept into my mind, like a letter slipping into a mailbox. I accepted it, knowing other investors would surely echo his concerns, and I couldn't lose Darwin.
"So you're saying no because you believe I have a child through dubious means?"
"If you put it that way... yes," he shrugged, taking a sip of his beer.
I inhaled deeply, sitting up straight. "I actually want to keep my personal life out of the public eye, but if you must know, the father of my child is my fiancé, and we're set to wed soon."
His lips stretched into a smile, and he clapped his hands.
"That's amazing! Congratulations! Sorry for my initial assumption; this is great news!"
I managed a forced smile. "Yes, thank you."
"I'm hosting a party next week. Why don't you bring him along?"
This is where the lie took me by surprise.
"W-What?" I stuttered, chuckling nervously.
"You heard me. Bring your fiancé, and after your wedding, we'll finalize the deal, pronto!"
"Oh, yes, yes! There's no problem at all; we'd be glad to come," I beamed.
"It will be a pleasure to host you," he grinned.
What have I done? How will I find a fiancé before next week? And how can I find someone willing to marry me and claim Reese's paternity?