The tension at Sterling Designs was thick enough to cut with a knife. The Holland meeting loomed, a critical juncture for the company's collaboration. Sarah, despite the emotional earthquake she was experiencing, had channelled her turmoil into her design, crafting a masterpiece that resonated with the Holland brand's ethos. It was a testament to her resilience, a quiet act of defiance against the forces conspiring to tear her life apart. She was not nervous because of her design, but because she knew Damien would most likely be present.
The meeting room buzzed with anticipation. The door opened, and Damien walked in. Alongside him, James Holland, a man whose reputation preceded him, entered the room, exuding an air of quiet power. James was known for his sharp intellect, unwavering focus, and impeccable taste. He listened attentively to the various presentations, his expression inscrutable. But when Sarah presented her design, a subtle shift occurred. His eyes lit up, a flicker of genuine appreciation crossing his features.
"This," he declared, his voice resonating with conviction, "this is it. This is what I envisioned. It's… extraordinary. This is exactly why I came here in person."
A wave of relief washed over Sarah. The sleepless nights, the emotional rollercoaster, the gnawing uncertainty—it had all been worth it. She had proven herself, not just as a designer, but as a woman who had risen from the ashes of her past.
Throughout the meeting, James Holland was exceptionally gracious and engaging with Sarah, praising her talent and vision. He even suggested they continue the discussion over dinner, hinting at a deeper collaboration beyond the immediate project. Damien, observing their interaction, felt a prickle of unease. She didn't even look my way once, Damien thought. He couldn't shake the feeling that James's interest in Sarah extended beyond her professional capabilities. James asked Sarah out to dinner to discuss her design and get her ideas about his annual show, and Sarah accepted. She then turned away from both him and Damien and went back to her workstation. Damien wanted to follow her but was stopped by a phone call.
Don's voice was loud on the other line. "What are you doing? Get here in half an hour. The press conference is about to begin."
"What press conference?" Damien asked.
His assistant, Jones, explained, "Sir, it's the official engagement announcement for the public."
"I'll be there in 10 minutes."
Half an hour later, the press conference was held. Don got up on the stage with Thomas Wellington to announce the engagement of Damien and Penelope. Damien and Penelope, holding hands, were photographed. Penelope was smiling and shining in her gown.
"Why didn't you change your suit?" she asked Damien right before the questions from the reporters started coming in.
"I told you before, this is just an act."
"Even an act should be convincing, don't you think?" She then took his head in her hands and kissed him on the lips, the crowd of reporters cheering. Damien didn't think she'd be this bold; he clenched his fists, but she was right—he had to go along with her play for now.
One reporter asked, "Such a beautiful couple, congratulations. How did you two first meet?"
"It was a charity gala last year, but we've been moving in the same circles for years, so this was inevitable," Penelope said while smiling and looking at Damien adoringly. "It was a love story that even surprised us."
Another reporter asked Damien, "In an interview Miss Wellington gave few days ago, she told the public that you, Mr. Sterling, fell in love with her at first sight. Is that true?" Damien turned to Penelope, a flicker of rage in his eyes. He smiled, but the smile was scary, cold, warning her not to go too far.
After questions about the engagement party, the venue, dress, and guest list, the news about their engagement spread all over town. One of Sarah's colleagues came up to her, holding her phone up. "Sarah, look, I just saw the news! Mr. Sterling is getting married to the Wellington family's heiress, Penelope. Aren't they a match made in heaven? I envy them."
Sarah just smiled and said, "Aha," and continued working. Her colleague then said, "Look! I wish someone would kiss me like that." Sarah lifted her head and she saw the picture; they were kissing. Her heart sank even further.