Chapter 17
“This place is beautiful,” Kayla said breathily.
“I told you I have good taste.” Luke smiled easily as he opened the front gate and politely gestured for her to step inside.
“Mr. Kingston, are you planning to live here yourself?” she asked as she walked in.
“Yeah. This is going to be my future home. My marital home, actually.”
“Wow,” Kayla said. “Your wife’s a lucky woman.”
“She’s not my wife yet,” Luke replied, a little bashfully. “But hopefully, soon.”
As he said that, a faint blush crept up the tips of his ears. Kayla couldn’t help but smile, too. His shy expression was oddly endearing.
The place was still bare–a true blank canvas–but to an interior designer like Kayla, it was full of untapped potential.
“So, Mr. Kingston, do you have any thoughts or preferences for how you want the place done?” she asked.
“I’ll leave that up to you,” Luke replied without missing a beat.
“Up to me?” She blinked, a little surprised.
Luke looked down at her, a playful smile flickering in his eyes. “You’re the designer, not me. Isn’t that your call?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Kayla chuckled. “I meant–do you prefer a certain style? Like traditional Zhanese, modern Zhanese fusion, Scullivian, Ostian
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“I really don’t mind. Whatever you think is best.”
In truth, plenty of clients didn’t have strong opinions about interior style. But Kayla still needed to be sure of one more thing.
“So, Mr. Kingston, just to confirm–you’re definitely going with me for the design work?”
“Absolutely. Do you want to sign the contract right now?” he asked.
“No need to rush it.”
Honestly, she’d never had such an easygoing client before.
They spent the next couple of hours walking through the place, taking measurements and photos. By the time she wrapped up, night had fallen.
Kayla originally planned to grab a ride home herself, but Luke insisted on giving her a lift. She found herself back in his flashy Cullinan, riding shotgun- the backseat was full of boxes of wine.
On the way back, Kayla kept her eyes on the cityscape outside. Astra in early winter had a bleak beauty to it. It hadn’t snowed yet, but the crisp air carried the promise of it, bringing its own quiet joy.
Luke drove calmly beside her, occasionally glancing her way.
When she sensed the silence growing a little awkward, Kayla decided to break it. After all, this guy was now her client–and if this Evening Breeze project went through, it’d basically cover her next six months of quotas.
“Mr. Kingston, you know I used to work at Maxwell Interiors, right? Had you heard of me before reaching out?”
“Of course,” Luke replied without hesitation. “I’ve been following your work for a while. I first saw your award–winning design in a magazine. I loved it. I told myself back then that the day I buy a house, I’m getting you to design it.”
Luke stopped the car at a red light and turned to look at her. “Honestly, I was surprised you came back.”
“What, you couldn’t have come to Jolsa to find me?” Kayla raised an eyebrow. “In the ID field, we’re not really tied to a specific city.”
At that, Luke fell silent.
The traffic light turned green. He didn’t speak again until they were moving.
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“It’s not the same,” he said quietly.
Something in his tone felt off, but Kayla couldn’t quite place what.
She was about to ask more when Luke suddenly said, “I noticed you have a ring mark on your right hand. Where’s your ring?”
The question caught her completely off guard.
She looked down at her fingers. Sure enough, the faint pale line was still visible–a ghost of a ring she’d worn for years.
In this day and age, divorce wasn’t exactly a taboo. There was no need to hide it.
‘I’m getting divorced. So, I took it off,” she replied.
“So, it’s not official yet?”
“The cooling–off period’s over. It should be finalized any day now.”
Kayla’s voice was calm and steady, as if it didn’t bother her at all. But Luke’s expression–just a fleeting glance—carried a softness that looked a lot like
Chapter 17
quiet sympathy.
