21

LAYLA.

14/60

WEDNESDAY.

"We run into each other again."

I curved my head to the voice. Tristan Thompson? He's pacing out of my father's office. They both have smiles on their faces. I'm in Dean Construction, my office is over there. Can't possibly be a dream. But why would he have come here?

Suspicious. Now that I think of it, He was at the Smith's party as well. That involved many business owners, but coming here raises a red flag. Much more with my father.

"Hello, Tristan."

He extends his hands, still smiling, and I'm forced to return them, even though I'm jumbled up as hell.

"Layla, you've met Mr Thompson?"

My cell phone had already beeped twice when I bobbed my head.

"We crossed paths at the party on Monday."

Father nodded in understanding.

"I will look forward to working with you, Sir."

"Likewise."

They shook each other's hands and then pulled apart. Okay. Suspicious as hell. What's happening?

Father made a move to leave. I smiled at Tristan and then caught up with my father, pu