Chapter 8
On the other end, Irene pressed her small head close to the phone, a triumphant smile on her face. She could already imagine her mom hurrying home to make oatmeal for her. After all, in the past, even the smallest whimper from her would send her mom rushing to her side.
Stella’s fingers tightened around the phone, her knuckles turning pale. On the screen in front of her, the design drawings Jeremy had sent were still glowing. She stared at the lines and thoughtful details, seeing clearly how much care the designer had poured into every part.
Suddenly, she remembered those nights she used to spend drawing in her studio. Back then, her hands were free of burns from boiling pots and the smell of kitchen grease. All they ever had on them was paint.
Stella’s voice came out slightly hoarse. “Tell her I’m busy.” Silence followed from the other end. Without another word, Stella hung up and placed the phone on the desk. Then she looked at her own hands, a wave of sadness washing over her.
Once, these hands had won countless awards, moving with confidence and creative flair. But ever since marrying into the Lloyd family, she had set down her pens and picked up a kitchen spoon.
At first, she burnt the oatmeal black three times in a row. Little by little, she learned to make pastries fine enough for any restaurant. Yet year after year, every callus on her hands earned her nothing but cold remarks from Ernest and more entitlement from Irene.
Her phone rang again. It was a message from Jeremy with a link. She opened the link and saw a digital invitation with shiny gold edges. Lloyd Group was hosting a meet-up, inviting designers to join for discussions and sharing.
She had to admit Lloyd Group lived up to its name. Though it was called a casual meet-up, several rising independent designers were set to attend. As expected, many jewelry companies would also be there, some looking to partner and others hoping to discover new talent.
‘But does a leading company like Lloyd Group really need to hold an event like this?’ Stella wasn’t sure, but she knew she couldn’t let this chance slip away.
She replied to Jeremy, [Got it. I’ll be there.] The moment she sent the message, the sharp spicy smell from the kitchen reached her. It used to be her favorite, but now it only brought back memories of all those lonely nights she had spent eating cold meals by herself.
Irene’s face fell when she heard that Stella was too busy to come. Anger quickly followed. She let out a frustrated whimper and turned to stomp upstairs.
Just then, Ernest stepped out, holding his phone. He saw her stormy expression and knelt down. “What’s wrong?”
“Dad, Mom won’t come back and make my oatmeal. She said she’s busy,” Irene said, her face falling into a pout. ‘Mom used to come cook for me whenever I asked. Why can’t she just drop everything and make it for me like she used to?’
“Dad, can you please call her?” Irene begged, looking up at Ernest with pleading eyes. “If you ask, I know Mom will come back home for us.”
Ernest gently patted Irene’s back. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Mom just wanted some time out to have fun. She’ll come back on her own when she starts to miss us.”
This just confused Irene even more. “But why does Mom want to go out and have fun? Shouldn’t she be at home waiting for us when we get back?”
Just then, Ernest’s phone beeped twice. Irene, who had been feeling down moments before, suddenly lit up. “Is that Ms. Jansen? Did she think of another fun place to go?”
Ernest took out his phone and gave a slight nod. “Yes. Ms. Jansen has booked tickets for tomorrow night’s performance of Snow White. It’s your favorite. I’ll pick you up after school and we’ll go together.”
“That’s awesome!” Irene cheered. But then she suddenly thought of her mom again. ‘Maybe it’s better that Mom didn’t come back. Otherwise she’d just nag me to practice piano, worry about safety, and go on and on. She might even get mad that I’m going out with Ms. Jansen and tell me I can’t go.’
‘That’s probably why Dad didn’t call Mom back. If she wants to have fun, let her stay out a few more days. After the weekend, when I’ve had my fun, I’ll just tell her to come home.’ Irene thought to herself.
The next evening, Stella followed the address Jeremy had shared, arriving at the second floor of Blue Whale Hotel. But just as she walked through the main entrance, she spotted Ernest stepping out of a car.
The two froze as their eyes met from a distance. But then Ernest quickly looked away. He walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door, and offered his hand. A slender hand reached out from within the car and rested gently in his.
As Sylvia stepped out of the car, the evening breeze lifted the hem of her pearl-gray suit skirt, revealing a dark silver snake-shaped anklet around her ankle.
That piece was once the highlight of the Lloyd Jewelry Exhibition. Now it coiled around Sylvia’s smooth ankle, tightening like real scales as she stepped down. However, few people knew that the design, publicly credited to Noreen, was actually Stella’s.
Sylvia naturally linked her arm with Ernest’s. He looked down at her, his eyes full of tenderness. Stella followed behind, clutching her invitation tightly. The elevator’s walls reflected her pale face.
When she picked up her guest badge at the registration desk, she caught pieces of a hushed conversation nearby. A blonde woman whispered to her friend, “Did you see Sylvia’s bracelet? It looks like this year’s Van Cleef & Arpels limited edition.”
Her brunette companion replied quietly, “You know she’s a designer herself, right? Just starting to get recognized. Rumor has it Mr. Lloyd is backing her all the way.”
“No wonder he came tonight,” the blonde added. “You’d never normally see someone like him at an event like this. They must be together. I heard he’d give her everything she asked. He absolutely adores her.”
Stella did her best to ignore the chatter and focus on the designers’ work. She paused before a brooch design titled Tundra Spark. Without a doubt, it was the most striking piece at the event.
“Good eye,” a familiar voice came from behind her. Stella turned to see Jeremy approaching, his gaze warm behind his glasses. “This brooch uses reverse inlay. See this crack? It reminds me of the iceberg fissure we once discussed.”
Stella froze for a moment, suddenly reminded of their first university design project. To capture the realism and beauty of iceberg cracks, she had even traveled all the way to Frostpeak Isle. This text is hosted at.net
Unconsciously, her fingers brushed against the calluses on her palm. ‘But this is what I have now.’ Lost in thought, she suddenly felt a chill down her spine. She instinctively turned around and met Ernest’s piercing gaze.