She'd known all along—Jonathan wouldn't have shown up here today without a reason.
"So you deliberately scared off my investor..." Niamh glared at him, her voice sharp with accusation.
Jonathan didn't even blink. Casually cutting into his steak, he replied, "Do I really look that terrifying? Besides, he just didn't want to have lunch with you. It's not like he said he was pulling out."
Niamh pressed her lips together, holding back the words she really wanted to say.
"I'm opening my own studio. That's not going to change."
"Grandfather supports you building your own career. I won't stand in your way."
Relief washed over Niamh at Jonathan's words.
"But Marina's starting her own jewelry design studio too. You'll be competitors."
Jonathan finished his meal and got to his feet, towering over her with an air of cold arrogance.
"I'm only looking out for you. If Marina's your rival, you don't stand a chance. But if you don't appreciate the advice, that's your choice."
With that, Jonathan strode out of the bistro, leaving Niamh alone at the table.
The empty seat across from her made the whole space feel hollow.
She picked up her fork and knife, then set them down again. She hadn't eaten enough, but her appetite had vanished.
So, Marina was launching a studio too. Direct competition. Strangely, Niamh didn't feel intimidated.
After all, she'd worked alongside Marina for years. The woman had talent, sure, but her design philosophy and aesthetics had never been Niamh's taste.
She didn't believe she'd lose.
What bothered her most was that she'd thought striking out on her own meant finally leaving Marina—and all the old rivalries—behind.
Apparently not.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: His Housewife Had Secret Identities