Ever After Awaits (Layla) novel Chapter 7

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Ever After Awaits

Chapter 7: Layla POV

I spend the rest of the afternoon packing my stuff away in the closet and organizing my toiletries in the

bathroom.

Moira’s words keep swimming in the back of my mind.

My mom has always been a nice and friendly person, no matter who you were or where you worked. I can’t see her being rude or condescending to the staff. But, as recent events have shown me, I don’t know my mother as well as I thought I did.

I decide to shelf that thought for a while, at least until I can see for myself, how my mom interacts with

Moira when they return from their honeymoon.

Once I’m done, I saunter down to the kitchen where I find Moira and an older Mexican man. She is stirring

something in a pot on the stove while he is sipping on a cup of coffee.

When he spots me, he jumps up and turns to leave, “I’m so sorry miss, I’ll take my leave now.”

I step into his path and raise my hands to show him to slow down. “Please don’t leave on my account. I’m Layla, are you José?” I take an educated guess because I haven’t seen anyone else wandering around the

property.

José’s cheeks turn pink and his head dips in acknowledgement. He glances at Moira but she just smiles at

him.

“Thank you for bringing my stuff up to my room, I appreciate it. I wouldn’t have minded helping you – I know how heavy some of them were.”

José looks at me as if I have grown a second head. “I told you she isn’t like the rest of the people in this house.” Moira pipes up with a friendly smile brightening her face.

I step closer and indicate to him to take his seat again. He does so hesitantly but after a few minutes of chatting about mundane things, he relaxes and starts telling me about his life back in Mexico.

As Moira and José regale me with old stories and funny moments around the house, I start helping her prepare dinner. As she is stirring and adding herbs and spices to her beef stew, I boil potatoes for the mashed potatoes while popping garlic bread into the oven.

We are laughing, joking, and generally just being merry when we hear the front door slam shut. We hear a female giggle and a low raspy voice, but it isn’t clear what is being said.

In the next moment, Xavier and a bottle blonde come stumbling around the corner. I ignore them as I’m mashing the potatoes.

“Moira, please set an extra place at the table tonight, Becky will be joining us for dinner.” Xavier goes over

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to Moira and gives her a one–armed hug, almost bending in half due to their height difference. It is quite

comical.

“My name is Bianca,” the blonde semi–scowls at Xavier but doesn’t push the subject.

Xavier ignores his blunder and looks over at me. “Moira, you might want to check on redoing those potatoes because I don’t think the pampered princess has cooked a day in her life. She probably only knows how to order take–out and make her next nail appointment.”

Bianca starts laughing like a hyena and Xavier smirks at me, he probably thinks he’s hilarious and has me pinned down to a tee.

I decide to ignore his comment, I don’t need to defend myself to him. He doesn’t know me. But Moira has other plans.

“Xavier Michael Reed, you apologize to Layla right this minute!” Moira is giving him the stink–eye. You know, the one that all parents give to their children when they are extremely disappointed in them.

“But…” Xavier tries to backtalk Moira but she isn’t having any of it.

“Layla has been nothing but friendly, kind, and helpful since she stepped in this morning. The same can unfortunately not be said for your current guest.” She glares at Bianca from the corner of her eye.

Xavier drops his head in shame and I think he is preparing himself to apologize to Moira at least (because I do not expect an apology from him) when Bianca pipes up.

“Who do you think you are talking to Xavier like that? You are just the hired help.”

The room goes deadly silent, and I can feel the mood shift exponentially. The next moment Xavier storms up to Bianca, she yelps and starts backing up. He doesn’t stop until he has pinned her against the wall behind her, not touching her, but his thunderous presence is enough to keep her in place.

“You will not speak to Moira like that! She is like a second mother to me!” his face is murderous, and his voice is so cold that the Antarctic can learn a thing or two from him.

Bianca stutters but no coherent words come out. I think the few brain cells she has left have short- circuited. The poor thing.

Moira and I are as still as statues, watching the scene play out, waiting to see if she’s able to talk herself

out of this.

After a few tries, her voice starts working again, “Xavier, baby, you know I didn’t mean anything by it. You said yourself that Layla was a useless, pampered, entitled princess. I was just backing you up when your housekeeper was trying to pick her side.”

Her eyes ping–pong from one side of his face to the other, hoping that he believed that flimsy excuse she

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came up with.

Her words only confirmed what I already knew; Xavier has some preconceived notion of who and what I am. But it is not my responsibility to try and change his mind. In my experience, people will believe what they want to believe, even if all the evidence shows them otherwise.

“Leave!” he hollers at her, spittle flying in her face. His fists are clenched at his sides and the vein in his neck is sticking out of pure rage.

Bianca must see something in his eyes that convinces her that it is futile to argue any further because the next moment she is rushing from the room and the sound of the front door slamming shut comes a few

seconds later.

Before Xavier can completely turn towards us, Moira speaks up, “Xavier, I will bring your dinner up to your room. I think it’s best if you don’t join us for dinner tonight.” His shoulders slump immediately, he nods his head once, and then he is gone.

“Moira, that honestly wasn’t necessary,” I start but she cuts me off.

“No, I taught that boy better manners than that. And then he dares to bring that floozy into this house. I will not stand for it.” She turns her back on me and I know this conversation is over.

I’m done with the mashed potatoes, so I search for crockery and cutlery to start setting the table. I even found a serving tray to place Xavier’s dinner on. Just because he is an otter brain with no manners or civility, does not mean I will stoop to his level.

Chapter Comments

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I like how you can see the influence moira has on xavier and the fact he actually listens to her. made me like her character more.

Visitor

I think the good is hidden under the facade he has going. Hes just stubborn cant wait to see the change. Moira is already a favorite!!