Mafia Lord's Mute Sweetheart

Chapter 82: Chapter 82 Happiness

Mr. Henderson’s eyes widened slightly. He straightened his tie, cleared his throat and adopted an expression of absolute innocence.

Mr. Henderson said, his voice careful. "Nothing, sir. I said nothing."

Rafael insisted, his eyes narrowing. "You said something. I heard you. You muttered something."

Mr. Henderson said smoothly, his voice calm. "I was clearing my throat, sir."

Rafael shook his head, unconvinced. "That was not a throat clear. That was words. I heard words."

Mr. Henderson replied calmly. "Your hearing is excellent, sir."

Rafael pointed his pen at him. "Don’t change the subject."

Mr. Henderson sighed. He knew there was no winning this argument. He decided to pivot.

Mr. Henderson asked, his voice carefully neutral. "Sir, you are definitely not pulling her through the back door? I just want to be clear. Because if she gives a bad interview... what will I do?"

Rafael blinked. He tilted his head, his dark hair falling across his forehead. His green eyes flickered with thought.

Rafael said thoughtfully. "Well... pull her through the back door."

Mr. Henderson stared at him, his expression completely flat.

"..." And you’re saying you’re not pulling her through the back door.

❀┈┈┈┈❀

Daisy was floating on cloud nine. She had just received the email from Mr. Henderson confirming the interview details. Tomorrow. 10 AM. Kuursh Pharma Limited. She had read it seven times already, her eyes scanning the words over and over, making sure it was real.

She needed to tell someone. She needed to share this joy with someone.

She opened her messages and typed frantically to Annie:

I GOT AN INTERVIEW! TOMORROW! 10 AM! KUURSH PHARMA LIMITED! I CANNOT BELIEVE IT!

She hit send and waited.

Three seconds later, her phone exploded.

Annie’s reply came in rapid fire, one message after another, like she was typing with her elbows.

WHAT?!

OH MY GOD!

DAISY! THIS IS HUGE!

YOU ARE GOING TO NAIL IT!

BUT WAIT—

YOU CANNOT GO TO AN INTERVIEW IN THOSE OLD DRESSES!

WE NEED TO GO SHOPPING!

RIGHT NOW!

EMERGENCY SHOPPING!

I AM PICKING YOU UP IN 15 MINUTES!

Daisy stared at the screen, her eyes wide. She typed back quickly.

But I was going to the beach today. I had plans.

Annie:

PLANS CANCELED!

THIS IS MORE IMPORTANT!

YOU ARE GOING TO AN INTERVIEW!

YOU NEED A POWER OUTFIT!

SOMETHING THAT SAYS "I AM CAPABLE AND PROFESSIONAL AND I BELONG HERE"!

Daisy hesitated. She loved the beach. She loved the mascot. She loved the children and the dancing and the feeling of being invisible and free.

But this was different. This could give her financial freedom!

Okay, she typed. I will be ready.

Annie:

GOOD! I WILL BE THERE SOON!

Annie arrived in exactly fifteen minutes, her car screeching to a stop in front of the mansion. She honked the horn twice, impatient and excited.

Daisy ran out the door, her heart pounding.

Annie leaned out the window, her eyes bright, her smile wide.

"Get in, girl! We have work to do!"

Daisy climbed into the passenger seat.

Annie pulled away before she even closed the door.

"Okay," Annie said, her voice businesslike. "We need to find you something professional. Something that says ’I am smart and capable and you should hire me’ but also something that makes you feel comfortable. Something that feels like you."

Daisy nodded, typing on her phone.

I have never been to a professional interview before. I do not know what to wear.

Annie waved her hand. "That is why I am here. I am your personal stylist. I will find you the perfect outfit. Trust me."

They drove to a small boutique in the city center. It was not a fancy place, but you could find affordable and professional clothing there. The windows were clean, the displays simple and elegant.

Annie grabbed Daisy’s hand and pulled her inside. The bell above the door rang softly.

Daisy looked around at the racks of clothes. Blazers, blouses, trousers, and skirts. Everything was neat and organized, arranged by color and size.

Annie marched toward a rack of blazers, her eyes scanning the options. "Okay, let’s start with a blazer. Every professional woman needs a good blazer. It says I mean business."

Daisy followed her, her eyes wide. She had never owned a blazer before. She had never needed one.

Annie pulled out a navy blue blazer, holding it up against Daisy. "This is nice. The color is good on you. It brings out your eyes."

Daisy looked at herself in the mirror. The blazer was simple and clean, the fabric soft and well-fitted. She turned slightly, studying her reflection.

Annie nodded approvingly. "Good. Now we need a blouse. Something soft. Something that balances the blazer."

They moved to the blouse section. Annie picked out a cream-colored silk blouse, holding it up for Daisy to see.

"This is perfect. It’s professional but feminine. It says I am capable, but also approachable."

Daisy touched the fabric. It was soft and smooth, cool against her fingertips.

Annie grabbed Daisy’s hand. "Now we need trousers."

They found a pair of black tailored trousers that fit Daisy perfectly. The fabric was comfortable, the cut flattering.

Annie clapped her hands together. "This is it. This is the outfit. Navy blazer, cream blouse, black trousers. You are going to look like a million bucks."

When it came time to pay, Annie even wanted to pay.

Daisy’s eyes widened. She quickly reached out and placed her hand on Annie’s arm, stopping her. She shook her head firmly, her caramel hair swaying with the movement.

She pulled out her own wallet, her movements quick and determined. She pointed at herself, then at the clothes, then made a firm gesture with her hand.

I will pay. This is my interview. My clothes. My responsibility.

Annie frowned, her voice pouty. "Daisy, let me do this. It’s a gift. A celebration gift. You got an interview! That’s huge! Let me celebrate with you!"

Daisy shook her head again. Her expression was soft but firm. She typed on her phone quickly.

I appreciate it, Annie. Really. But I need to do this myself.

Annie read the words. Her expression softened. She sighed, her shoulders slumping.

"Fine," she said, her voice pouty. "But I don’t like it. I wanted to spoil you."

Daisy smiled. She typed again.

You spoil me enough. You drove me here. You picked out the outfit. That is more than enough.

Annie’s pout softened into a small smile. After Daisy paid with her card, they walked out of the boutique.