Chapter 13
“Dad, don’t worry. I have my own plans,” Whitney assured Charles.
Hayden blurted without thinking. “You got played by a dude once. What kind of plan can you get?” Realizing he might’ve gone too far, he clammed up fast. Both Charles and Myles shot him the evil eye, making Hayden swallow hard.
Whitney felt a rush of warmth. Hayden’s bark had always been worse than his bite, and she knew it.
“It’s okay. Hayden’s just being Hayden. I had to shut down my studio for the wedding, but I put too much into it to let it go.” Whitney spilled her guts about the studio, her once and future dream.
The Greene family had always supported her in everything she did; this time was no exception. Before long, the studio underwent renovation. The suppressed fire in Whitney’s heart began igniting again when she returned to this
narrow space.
A year flew by.
Today, a luxurious multinational banquet was being hosted on the top floor of an international hotel.
Outside the entrance, Whitney, donning a red gown, handed her invitation to the staff, and then the crystal door opened. She took every step while exuding pride, elegance, and aloofness.
Noticing his sister. Myles put down his wine glass and immediately approached her.
“Hey, Myles.” Whitney latched onto Myles’s arm.
“Looking pretty sure of yourself, he joked. “You think you’re gonna nail that deal tonight?”
Whitney shot him a sly grin and crossed her fingers.
Off in a quiet spot, a guy in a sharp suit was just chilling with his legs crossed–all until his eyes landed on Whitney. That jaw of his tensed up real tight. “Wow, moving on already?‘ he thought, all bitter.
Suddenly all fired up, Thiago got up and made a beeline for her. He snagged a wine glass from a tray a waiter was carrying without missing a beat. “Long time no see, Mr. Greene,” he said.
Myles turned to him, looking kind of wary. “Mr. Mackenzie?”
Thiago couldn’t help but lay his eyes on Whitney real bold–like. “Huh, who knew? You brought a date tonight. So, should I be listening out for wedding bells soon?”
Just a year, and Whitney had changed so much. Thiago was floored. She’d always been a looker, but he never knew she could be this dazzling like she was some kind of queen.
What the heck did she do with herself this past year? Thiago wondered, his interest piqued just seeing her now.
Seeing Thiago’s blatant gaze, Myles was fairly dissatisfied. Right as he was about to sneer, Whitney let go of his hand and remarked, “Aren’t you quite the busybody, sir?”
Thiago was momentarily stunned.
“How does it concern you whether he brings a plus–one or not? Mind your own business.” Whitney didn’t hide her contempt for him, finding him an embarrassment to be so nosy as the CEO of Mackenzie Corporation.
Le
Thiago was struck dumb. He never thought Whitney could be this sassy.
“Pardon me, Mr. Greene. I have an important thing to do.” Whitney gave Myles a polite nod, lifted her dress a bit, and left with her head held high.
Thiago glanced at Myles before also excusing himself to follow her.
In the garden, Whitney was solemnly checking the design draft on the tablet over and over again.
She was here tonight to lock down a deal with Indigox, some bigshot brand that everyone knew. Sure, her studio had come a long way in a year, snagging a decent rep and some solid clients, but it wasn’t the household name she wanted it to be yet. She wasn’t too keen on schmoozing with the big names, but if it helped her studio grow, she’d deal.
“All’s good, she thought, putting away the tablet. She had just turned around when she bumped into a firm chest.
Her expression changed as Whitney recognized this smell. “Mr. Mackenzie, you don’t know when to quit, tailing a lady who’s made it crystal clear she wants nothing to do with you?”
“Watch your mouth. Whitney Thiago’s face darkened.
“Only now you’re catching on that I’m no pushover?” Whitney replied coolly, unbothered. “Maybe you should save your breath, then. Without another word, she stormed off, leaving him standing there.
Watching as she left, Thiago seethed with anger. He had completely lost the mood to stay at the banquet, so he went downstairs and got into his car.
Only after rolling down the window and feeling the cold breeze did he calm down. He grabbed his phone and made a call, saying, “Whitney was at the party tonight. Dig up everything about her, especially her deal with Myles Greene,”
Not long after, Jeremy called to say, “Mr. Mackenzie, Ms. Collins is the founder of a small studio that has some fame int the design industry. She was invited tonight to discuss a partnership with Indigox. As for her relationship with Myles, she has designed formal attires for the Greene family a few times, so I reckon it’s purely professional.”
“Nothing personal, huh? Guess the Greenes are just fans of her work. Comforted by that, Thiago hung up, but as he was about to step out, he spotted a red dress slipping into a cab outside the hotel. He frowned, deep in thought.
Meanwhile, Whitney was thoroughly exhausted from the banquet. She had barely stepped into her studio when her friend Sophia Ulrich waltzed in and made herself at home on the sofa with a glass of wine.
“The word is you bumped into your ex tonight?” Sophia said, all eager for the gossip as she lounged back, wine in one hand and her cheek propped on the other.
Whitney rolled her eyes. “Please, don’t bring him up in my studio. I fear it’ll affect
my business.”
Sophia sipped her wine and teased, “Seriously, I just don’t want you getting all hung up over some guy–especially
him.”
Once upon a time. Whitney had been head over heels for Thiago, sure. But that was old news. She wasn’t that girl
anymore.
“Forget it, I’m over him,” Whitney assured her.
“That’s good.” Sophia was much more relieved now, but she didn’t give up probing. “For real, though. Did you really feel nothing in front of him?”
Whitney sat up straight. “Cross my heart, nothing!”
Chapter 13
Life was good for Whitney, running her own studio and spending time with family. Crossing paths with Thiago was the last thing she needed.
The duo continued chatting until Sophia saw that it was late and left contentedly with a bottle of Whitney’s red wine. At last, the studio returned to peace, and Whitney was about to rest when the doorbell rang again. “Now what?” she thought irritably.
“I’m out of wine…” she trailed off at the sight of who was at the door.
