Betrayal 24

Raymond stared at his phone’s darkened screen, a flicker of confusion in his eyes “Did Mom… Just hang up on me?”
As far as he could remember, his mother had never once ended a call on him first.
“No way,” Celia muttered, her brow furrowing as she peered at his phone. “Mom wouldn’t dare. She probably just pressed something by accident. But Miss Sinclair can’t wait any longer. Ray, call her back!”
Uncertain, Raymond redialed, only to get a busy signal this time.
His face fell immediately.
So his mother *meant* to do that!
How childish could she be? Grown adults shouldn’t be pulling these kinds of stunts! If Miss Sinclair hadn’t borrowed his mother’s sweater and had an allergic reaction, none of this would’ve happened in the first place. And if she hadn’t spilled milk on him that day, he might’ve ended up with an allergic reaction too!
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Clutching his phone, Raymond darted out of the hospital room.
“Ray!” Celia called after him, stomping her little foot in frustration. “Miss Sinclair hasn’t eaten yet!”
“I’ll figure something out!” he shouted over his shoulder.
Meanwhile, after hanging up on her son’s exasperating call, Celestine’s phone buzzed with a message from Crystal Lennox.
Celestine called her back right away.
“That client is incredibly picky. Our company’s designers have come up with over a hundred drafts, and still nothing is good enough,” Crystal confessed with a sigh. “Celly, I’ve thought about it and I really think you’re the only one for this job. Will you give it a shot?”
Celestine paused before replying, “What’s the direction?”
Hearing she wasn’t flat-out refusing, Crystal brightened instantly. “The client wants a collection of sportswear themed around ‘renewal’-something vibrant and full of
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life. I’ll email you the rest of the requirements. I know you haven’t done much graphic design lately, so take a look first. If you’re interested, I’ll tell the client your re on board.”
Celestine listened quietly, then said, “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Really?” Crystal’s surprise was tinged with delight.
Celestine’s voice was steady. “Yes. I’ve given it a lot of thought these past couple of days; I want to be a designer again, to live for myself this time. I’ll take this commission. Let’s make this my trial for coming back to the company.”
Skills unused for too long, she thought, are bound to fade away.
But this project-a new athletic line-was an opportunity, a starting point.
She sat on a bench outside the hospital, feeling the cold March wind while spying the first green buds poking from bare branches.
Her gaze cleared.
Crystal almost wanted to say that even without a trial, no one at Kismet Collective would dare question Celestine’s return. But this was Celestine’s own choice; if she was walking this road, she’d never look back.
Crystal’s voice was warm with pride. “Smile, Celly. I can’t wait to have you back.”
A genuine smile lit up Celestine’s face just as a shaft of sunlight broke through the branches, bathing her in a golden glow.
On the tenth floor, a man stood at the window, lighting a cigarette with one hand. “Who were you talking to, that you’re smiling like that?” he murmured, jealousy flickering in his eyes.
“Miss Angel!”
A young girl tumbled out of a car, calling for Celestine in her sweet, childish voice.
“Let’s talk later, Crystal,” Celestine said, ending the call as she waved at the littl running toward her. “Cynthia, what are you doing here? Did you transfer hospitals?” Cynthia bounced into her arms. Celestine smiled, brushing a hand over her smooth forehead.
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Cynthia flashed a row of tiny teeth, then glanced Instinctively up at the tent “Nope! I came to visit my uncle-he’s not feeling well!”
Celestine pinched Cynthia’s chubby cheek, her tone softening. “Oh, your uncle whic still refuses to get married?”
Cynthia nodded vigorously, sighing. “Exactly! Miss Angel, now that you’re divorced, will you go on a date with my uncle? He’s *super* handsome-the most handsome man in all of Oceanview City!”
She was doing her best to sell him.
Celestine crouched down, wrapping Cynthia in a hug. “And how do you know I’m getting divorced?”
“Because Miss Angel’s husband doesn’t treat you well! If he’s not good to you, why stay with him?” Cynthia replied, nodding her tiny head-in earnest, watching Celestine for her answer.