Jessie's Pov
"How does this look?" Layla asks.
I place my phone on the table facing down, hoping Layla doesn't ask about it because I may not know how to lie to her. I take her phone to look at the photos. The first one looks good, and before I know it, I am swiping into her gallery.
I stop when a photo catches my attention. It is Harry, Grey's coworker.
"Why do you have Harry's nudes?" I ask her, and she grabs the photo from my grip, her smile turning into a scowl.
"Now why would you do that?" she asks.
"We always do that with each other's phones," I defend my action.
"Yeah, you shouldn't have done that, though. You weren't meant to see that," she whispers, hiding her phone like that will erase the assault my eyes had to endure.
My phone beeps, and I turn to see the message.
'Almost done,' Fred, Layla's boyfriend, texts back.
I turn my phone back on the table and find Layla staring at me with her eyes filled with guilt.
"What is going on?" I ask.
She takes a deep breath. "You are going to hate me," she says.
"Nothing could ever make me do that," I state.
"Even when it is triggering?" she says.
One thing triggers me badly: cheating.
"Are you cheating on Fred with Harry?" I ask. "Harry?" I add. Of all the peopleâthat know it all, Harry?
"I don't know what to call it. We have been hanging out and exchanging photosânothing much," Layla tries to minimize the matter.
"Harry?" I still can't see him with Layla. He has that ugly uppity aura.
"It is a mess," she mutters.
It is.
Fred is waiting on her with a surprise engagement, and now it puts me in an awkward situation.
"You have no idea," I agree. "Where does Fred fit in that..." I stop mid-sentence when I see my father walking into Diamond Hotel.
"He is here," I state, standing up, and Layla quickly follows me. We cross the road from the café we had been sitting in. The past few days at La Cooper, i have been seeing him leave at exactly the same time, alone and looking suspicious.
He disappears inside the hotel, and we double our steps not to lose him. Something tells me his overstay in the city is just not about ensuring I remain married and sire kids with Oliver. He hates cities, and I am not that significant for him to endure it. There is more.
"Your father is a scary man," Layla says as we push through the revolving door.
Diamond Hotel is one of La Cooper's major competitors. Diamond is notorious for sending its employees to infiltrate their competitors and spy on their behalf.
It is big on the inside; the spacious lobby has a warm golden glow. Grey did speak of its grandeur whenever they had business meetings here. He said he could never bring his clients to La Cooper because I worked there.
I was okay with his reason.
We head toward the direction that leads to the central seating area. It is arranged with plush beige and gold-upholstered armchairs.
I immediately spot him seated with an unfamiliar man. I can't get closer without him noticing me, and I desperately want to hear their conversation.
I turn to Layla. "You have to be the one to get closer. I am sure he doesn't remember you," my father met Layla only once at the wedding.
"Fine," she doesn't give it a second thought.
I take the card Oliver gave me and hand it to her to buy something. I am sure the staff might question her if she just sits and buys nothing.
"And we still have to talk about Fred," I remind her of our unfinished conversation.
"No need; it is Fred," she says, leaving me alone as she enters the sitting area. I remain hidden behind the potted plant.
She chooses a seat near where my father sits. I hope she is within earshot.
I take my phone and snap a discreet, flash-less photo. Taking the chance to tell Fred that in an hour I will bring Layla to the spot where he will propose to her. I am just so happy for her; this is what she has always wanted. She will be over the moon. I don't know what made Fred change his mind; he was faithful to his ideology of not getting married anytime soon. Regardless of his reasons, they love each other, and that is it.
To kill time, I start to scroll on my phone despite people staring at me standing behind a plant. I log into my socials and scroll aimlessly until I stumble upon an account in my suggestions. I never thought of Oliver as a social media kind of guy. I try to check his account. It is private. Maybe it is someone impersonating him because despite his status, he has no public page.
I decide to send a request anyway and now wait to see if the person behind the account will approve.
My attention goes back to my father and Layla. He is still in deep conversation with the man. I start to grow impatient; we have to leave now to get Layla o Fred on time. I text her if she has any idea what they are speaking about.
'Politics, policiesâboring stuff,' she responds.
Then when I am about to ask her to leave, I see my father stand up. He smiles at his company, shaking his hand. I know it is my time to disappear before he sees me. If he finds out my plan, I think it will seal any opportunity that existed for reconciliation.
I quickly rush toward the exit, and once outside, I start to walk on the left side where an unloading zone is. I find a truck unloading and decide to duck behind it just as I see my father walk out.
A taxi is already waiting for him. The fact that Nick didn't drive him here is already suspicious.
Minutes later, I see Layla walking, and I emerge and head toward her. She is parked on the other side of the hotel.
"It is just politics you heard?" I ask her as we walk.
"I couldn't hear well, but I also heard 'senator' or something. I don't think they wanted to be heard by anyone," she says, diminishing my hope since, just like at the beginning, we are back to zero.
My detective mind starts to spin; the internet is a vast ocean, and anything at the deepest bed can be uncovered. The photo I took earlier, I load it to my image search engine and watch the magic.
He is quite popular; his results are many. Apparently, he is a politician running for the senate position. The issue is I can't find any affiliation he has with my fatherânot even a single photo.
It is frustrating not to have answers, but I will find out. For now, I have a friend to deliver.
"Can you drive me to VAR?" I state.
"Isn't it a little early to be drinking?" she asks.
"It won't take long; I will get in and get out," I lie to her.
"It's my off day, so what the hell," she shrugs.
We get in her car, and the drive is short as she fills me in on the drama at La Cooper. I do miss the familiarity.
"Come with me," I beg her, and she accepts begrudgingly.
VAR was once a candy shop; it is where Layla and Fred met. It was previously called Suga Haven and later became a football bar.
I lead her inside the bar. At this time of day, there are few people in it. I nod at the bartender, with whom I became acquainted in the morning when I was here, as I walk past him into the reserved section.
"Can you wait for me here?" I ask her, pointing at a seat in the empty room.
She looks at me, confused. "What is going on?"
"Nothing; relax. I am going to the washroom, and I will be back," I assure her.
"Is this another detective thing?" she asks.
"Relax," I say, leaving.
I find an exit and stand and wait. One by one, the shot girls start to appear, all walking toward Layla, each girl carrying a bouquet of red roses. They stand to create a heart shape. Layla looks around, perplexed, and i step into sight when I see Fred come into view. He takes slow, calculated steps toward Layla, only stopping before her on one knee.
"Layla, will you marry me?" he asks.
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