Designers scrambling to curry his favor were a dime a dozen; there was no way he could give everyone a chance.
Still, seeing Niamh in FY's signature piece suggested she had some connection to the higher-ups at FY.
"And you are…?"
Niamh handed her card to Liam Grant.
The name and brand caught Liam's attention—he vaguely remembered hearing about her.
"Peter mentioned you to me," Liam said.
Niamh paused, glancing instinctively at Peter, a surge of gratitude welling up inside her.
Peter, engaged in conversation across the room, caught her gaze and lifted his wine glass in a silent toast.
Jonathan, watching the wordless exchange between Niamh and Peter, tightened his grip on his glass, his knuckles turning white.
Devon leaned in to introduce Niamh for Liam's benefit. "Miss Rivers is Mr. Peter's girlfriend. She's quite a talented designer, though personally, I still prefer Ms. Thornton's work."
Once again, Niamh was publicly compared to Marina. The sting was familiar, but that didn't make it any easier to bear.
But there was no use dwelling on the fact that Marina's work had outshone hers. The outcome was settled, and wallowing in disappointment wouldn't change a thing.
All she could do now was carve out a new chance for herself—and seize it with everything she had.
"Miss Rivers has flawless technique," Devon continued, "but design is about inspiration, about that spark. Her work is a bit too textbook, too rigid. Ms. Thornton's, on the other hand, is alive with intuition—a natural gift that shines through, revealing a designer's soul and boundless talent."
As Niamh listened to Devon's critique, she caught Jonathan's cold, almost mocking smile.
Every compliment for Marina felt like a confirmation of Jonathan's earlier warnings.
But Jonathan barely seemed to care about Devon's words. His attention was fixed on Niamh, watching to see how she would react to the criticism.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: His Housewife Had Secret Identities