When they finished eating, Daisy followed Desmond back to his car. Sitting in the passenger seat at the front, she rested her hand on the door, her cheek leaning on top of it as she stared outside, lost in thought.
She was wondering how she was going to design fifty dresses in just a few days and still manage to make them look beautiful.
Her work was hectic, but she pitied the sewing team even moremhow were they going to create all those dresses in such a short time? I guess Mr. Jerk Face is a jerk to everyone, she thought.
While Daisy was lost in thought, Desmond, who was driving, noticed her unusual silence. He glanced at her, his eyes lingering a little longer than necessary.
Her lips were pressed together in a worried pout, her cheeks slightly red, her hair a little messy with strands falling over her face just waiting for someone to tuck them behind her ear.
Before he could stare any longer, he cleared his throat and forced his gaze back to the road, though he still stole glances at her from time to time.
The silence in the car was unbearable for him. He was used to Daisy always talking whenever they were together even if it was just insults or sharp remarks. Finally, he decided to break it.
"Where am I dropping you off? You don't expect me to know your house, do you?" he asked.
Daisy, still half in her thoughts, rolled her eyes at that annoyingly familiar voice she'd been hearing too often lately.
"You didn't know that before?" she shot back. "Just drop me at Central Park. I'll call a taxi from there. You don't expect me to show you my house, right? You might bring your bad luck there too." She smirked.
"My bad luck? You know what maybe I should rub it off on you right here." He pulled the car to the side of the road. "I'd hate for you to catch it when I need you to finish those designs in the next two days."
Daisy blinked at him, surprised that he was actually throwing her out. Then again, maybe she wasn't that surprised it was Mr. Jerk Face. Without complaining, she stepped out and watched as he rolled down his window, smirked at her, and then drove off.
Now she regretted not having her car with her she'd taken a taxi earlier to give her legs a rest. She called another taxi and sat on a nearby bench to wait. That was when the first raindrops began to fall.
"I knew this guy was bad luck," she muttered, staying seated even as people around her ran for shelter. The rain, surprisingly, calmed her, and since her taxi was already close by, she decided to just sit there in her little bubble of self-misery.
Meanwhile, Desmond wanted to drop her at Central Park just like she'd requested when he got a message that made his mood shift.
He'd decided to go straight to his next stop until the rain started. The image of a girl drenched in the rain, fuming and cursing him, flashed in his mind.
After a brief internal struggle, he swore under his breath, hit reverse, and turned the car back toward where he'd dropped her off. When he arrived, he spotted Daisy sitting on the bench, letting the rain fall over her.
A pang of guilt hit him. He hesitated, deciding whether to get out, but then saw a taxi pull up and pick her up. Seeing she was covered, he drove off, his face hardening.
When the taxi dropped Daisy off at her house, she went inside and immediately made herself some hot cocoa. Catching a cold was the last thing she needed not with all the work she had to do for that jerk's company.
Hot cocoa in hand, she went to take a long, warm bath. Afterward, she sat down to work, pouring her energy into the designs. Several crumpled sheets of paper landed in the trash before she finally decided to pause and make dinner, hoping food would spark her creativity.
After eating, she felt a little better. She returned to her desk and kept working late into the night, determined to get it done no matter how much it drained her.