Chapter 103
Barnard’s expression said it all—he clearly wasn’t buying Camilla’s answer. He pressed her again, his voice a notch sharper, “Camilla, if you really forgot, then who was the brooch for p>
The pieces finally fell into place for Camilla. So this was why Barnard was so sure she’d gotten him a gift. Just because of that design sketch for the brooch. She had never told him it was for him, and it never crossed her mind that he’d jump to conclusions like this. Honestly, his ego was unbelievable.
“Barnard, do I need to report every little thing in my life to you? I have my own friends, my own circle. Who I give presents to has nothing to do with you. If anything, you should ask yourself why you thought it was for you when you never bothered to check.” Camilla kept her tone cool and steady.
Standing there arguing, she could practically hear the laughter bubbling up from the banquet hall. This drama was probably the night’s main event.
“But it’s my birthday. You always got me something before. Why not this year…” His voice trailed off, sounding almost lost. For years, Camilla always started planning his gifts months ahead of time. Why did she suddenly forget?
Camilla honestly didn’t get what he was hung up on. After everything—after he’d cheated—did getting a present from her really matter so much?
“Barnard, if we’re talking about before, things were different. I didn’t have problems piling up on me. I told you, I’ve been busy. I forgot. What else do you want from me?” She kept her words short and sharp.
She glanced over just in time to see the elevator doors swing open. Davina was coming their way, with Daisy close behind. Daisy carried a box that looked suspiciously like a birthday cake.
Camilla arched her brow and let out a cold little laugh. “Looking for your gift? Well, here comes someone ready to give you one. I have work to do p>
Barnard was still processing her words when she brushed by him and slipped into the banquet hall.
By the time Barnard looked around, Davina was already at his side. “What happened between you two just now?” Davina asked, eyeing him with concern. “Camilla looked so upset. Did you two get into an argument p>
Barnard glanced around, avoiding eye contact. When he made sure no one else was within earshot, he lowered his voice. “Davina, why are you here p>
“It’s your birthday,” Davina said simply. “I knew you’d be here with Camilla tonight, and I wasn’t sure if you’d come home, so Daisy and I spent the day making you a cake. I figured the celebration’s going on in there. I’m not going in, but you should take the cake p>
Daisy lifted the box toward him, its clear lid putting the cake on display. The loud mix of red and green made it impossible to ignore—bright, clashing colors, amateur decorations, nothing like the sophisticated cakes Barnard was used to. It looked straight out of a shabby little bakery on the corner, not something you’d see at a luxury event.
Still, Daisy offered it to him like it was something precious. “We worked all day on this, Barnard. Won’t you try it p>
Barnard stood there in his tailored suit, every detail on point. Davina and Daisy had clearly tried to dress up, too, looking less out of place than usual, but the cake… that cake ruined the effect.
He scanned the area again, worry prickling at the back of his neck—not happiness, not gratitude, just the rising fear that someone he knew would spot him. This was a private company celebration. Camilla had rented the whole floor. At any moment, a familiar face might appear. What would people think if they saw the Carter Group’s president being handed a cake like this—gaudy, cheap, belonging to a completely different world?
“Davina, really, there’s no need for the cake. We don’t need more food, and it’s a business event. You should take it back home,” Barnard said, his voice vague and dismissive.
Davina picked up on the coldness. She frowned, refusing to let it go. “Isn’t your birthday party tomorrow? How can there be a birthday without a cake? I made this with Daisy. Are you embarrassed by us, Barnard p>
He pressed his lips together, annoyance flickering in his eyes. Honestly, could she not just take the hint? He said, “Davina, this is a work event. It’s not the right time. Please, go home. We can talk later p>
Daisy took a hesitant step toward him, voice shaky and small. “We won’t embarrass you, Barnard. I promise. Mom spent all day on this cake. Please don’t push us away.” She tugged gently at his sleeve, looking up at him, pleading.
The cake wobbled in her hands, and in a split second, it slipped, smashing on the floor and splattering across Barnard’s expensive suit and shoes.
His first instinct wasn’t even to look at the mess splattered over himself. What he saw, instead, was Davina and Daisy. Even with their efforts to dress up, they looked uncomfortable in the hotel’s grand lobby, eyes darting around, posture uncertain, never quite fitting in. There was none of the easy grace Camilla always showed. No matter the crowd, Camilla always made him look his best. Right now, all Barnard could feel was embarrassment.
He stood there in silence, tension thick in the air. Davina’s face twisted with anger as she turned on Daisy, her voice sharp. She slapped Daisy on the back and snapped, “Can’t you do anything right? It was just a cake. Why can’t you hold it steady p>