Tangled Temptations

Orlena couldn't help but feel a flutter of surprise. The Noland household was one of means, with staff aplenty to cater to her every whim. Yet, it was the savory bagels from the local breakfast joint that had haunted her cravings for so many years. Especially during her pregnancy with Daniel, her desire for those scones bordered on obsession. Back then, she'd often nibble on plain bread with a side of tears, cursing Brett for his cold-hearted absence.

Now, with a gleam in her eye and a touch of trepidation, Orlena slipped a hand from beneath the cozy duvet and whispered, "Did you go for a run to get these?"

Brett hummed in affirmation. Then, patting her head, he teased with a touch of fastidiousness, "At least brush your teeth and wash your face before you dig in."

Accustomed to a laid-back routine, Orlena didn't want to appear slovenly in his eyes and thought about getting up. But as soon as she swung a leg out of bed, she regretted it. Her soft and sultry voice pleaded, "Brett, could you bring me a shirt?"

He didn't move, his gaze somehow meaningful.

Flushing, she urged, "Hurry up."

Brett leaned in to kiss her, his voice husky, "Wear my shirt." He fetched a crisp white shirt from the closet. Orlena slipped into it, the fresh scent of laundry still lingering. She casually pulled her long hair out from the collar. Looking up, she caught Brett's gaze and felt her cheeks warm. She scurried into the bathroom.

When she emerged, Brett had set up breakfast at the cozy dining table in the living room. The servants had also brought a breakfast, likely his favorite.

Orlena bit into the bagel, the rich flavors instantly satisfying her palate. Perhaps it was the afterglow of the previous night's passion, but she felt utterly content and languid.

After eating half a bagel, she looked up at Brett, who was sipping coffee and browsing the morning paper.

Orlena, sipping on her soy milk with a hint of diva-like flair, teased, "At your age, shouldn't you be focusing on your health instead of drinking coffee like my brother?"

Brett lowered the newspaper, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he chuckled, "What is my supposed age?"

Sensing his playful mood, Orlena dared not provoke him further and quietly enjoyed her soy milk.

Brett was almost finished with his meal. He spoke softly, "If you want to sleep in, go ahead. Daniel's with Mum; they're probably at the supermarket by now. She's got a grandson to brag about, after all."

Orlena fretted, "That doesn't seem right."

"What's not right about it?" Brett smiled indulgently. "I like to spoil you."

The memory of the prior evening's intimacy made him kiss her again before he whispered, "I'll come back and have lunch with you."

She, of course, wanted his company, but also remembered how busy he was. Embracing him, she said softly, "Tracey's here, too. Have lunch at the office, and we can have dinner together in the evening."

"That works," Brett said, embracing her slender waist.

As much as they yearned for each other, he had to leave for the office. Outside, Donny awaited by the car, and playfully complimented, "You're positively glowing today, sir."

Brett slid into the car, adjusting his tie, and asked casually, "Am I?"

Donny, all smiles, affirmed, "Absolutely. You're in such a good mood."

Brett gave him a pointed look but couldn't deny his happiness, both physically and emotionally.

At the office, his staff, aware of his girlfriend and son's arrival, were eager to celebrate with a treat, jokingly pressuring him for a meal or sweets.

Donny mock-scolded, "You are getting too bold, aren't you? Making jokes about Mr. Brett?"

But Brett waved it off, telling his staff to work hard and promising them that Donny would allocate funds for them to enjoy later. As for the sweets, he assured them there would be plenty to go around.

The employees showered him with flattery before he and Donny retreated to the office.

The young engineers and clerical staff gathered, buzzing with excitement. Rumors swirled that Mr. Brett's girlfriend was a model.

"Could Mr. Brett really be with a model?"

"Oh, you haven't heard? She's from the high society of Peterborough. To her, showbiz is just a game... And after all, Mr. Brett wouldn't settle for anyone less than a stunning and exceptional woman, would he?"

Their chatter died down at the mention of Stephanie, Brett's former flame, known for her lingering feelings for him.

Speculation about her reaction was cut short as Stephanie herself appeared, with a grace that betrayed none of her inner turmoil.

Despite the prosthetic hand she now wore, Brett had shown mercy for old times' sake, allowing her a clerical position, far from the secrets she once held.

Today, Stephanie was dressed elegantly in a silk blouse and coat, with sheepskin boots and a classic Dior pearl necklace, though Brett seemed uninterested.

She forced a smile. "I overheard them downstairs. Ms. Horigan is in Brockville for the holidays. You must be pleased."

Brett, who had long treated her as invisible, only showed a flicker of response at Orlena's mention. He gestured for Donny to exit and, once alone, lit a cigarette with a profound look. "Stephanie, sparing you wasn't just for old times' sake. It was because Orlena was unharmed. I thought losing a hand might have made you see sense."

Stephanie's voice echoed with a hint of sorrow, "Brett, how could you be so heartless?"

They had had their good times, after all, but in his eyes, only Orlena mattered. She had lost her hand, for heaven's sake.

Brett took a harsh drag on his cigarette, stubbed it out, and pulled up Stephanie's file. He stared at her and said earnestly, "Stephanie, you're not a fit for this place anymore. I'll draft a transfer for you to a subsidiary. The terms there won't be any worse than here. I reckon you'll be happier in a new environment."

He signed the transfer papers, sending her off to Dawson.

Stephanie inhaled sharply. "So, just because she's here, I have to clear out, right? Brett, you're kicking me out of Brockville, too, aren't you?"

Brett's tone was indifferent, "It's for the best, for both of us."

His mind was made up, and she couldn't change it.

When Stephanie left with her transfer orders, Donny was at the door, asking out of habit how she was, as her face was pale. Stephanie didn't even look at him.

Donny was puzzled, but then Brett came out.

Dealing with women always left a bitter taste. Without saying a word, Donny could guess most of what happened and offered a faint smile. "She will come around eventually."

Brett stopped in his tracks and said softly, "Donny, do you know what I regret the most? Having too many women before I met Orlena. If I'd known one day I'd want to be with a young girl this much, I would've waited for her, clean slate."

For a man like him, physical needs were never that important. Those flings were just to pass the time. He never took them to heart, but he knew Orlena would care. There wasn't a woman who wouldn't.

Donny offered some words of comfort.

By the afternoon, Stephanie had packed her things, left the building, and was soon on her way to Dawson. Her colleagues were surprised but guessed it was Mr. Brett's doing. They dared not mention her name again.

...

Brett was busy for the whole day. Before leaving work, he called Orlena, "What're you up to?"

On the other end, Orlena had just finished her chores. She had been helping Tracey prepare some food for the upcoming holidays, and she was particularly fond of a gifted box of fresh asparagus, so she sent a box to Peterborough. Her back was aching when Brett's call came in. She feigned complaint, "Housework is killing me."

Brett guessed she couldn't sit still and must have been working with Tracey. He teased her, "More than last night? But then again, you didn't put in much effort last night."

Orlena blushed at his words.

Loosening a button on his shirt, Brett said tenderly, "I was thinking of asking you

out. A stroll down the street, grab dinner, maybe catch a movie. But if you're tired, let's do it another time."

"I'm not tired, not tired at all," Orlena protested hurriedly, insisting, "I'm not tired one bit."

Brett chuckled lowly, "Not tired last night either?"

Facing his flirting, Orlena was at a loss for words.

Brett knew when to back off, his voice turning gentle again, "I'll send a driver for you."

Still unwilling to admit defeat, Orlena huffed before hanging up, "You're messing with me."

Brett's voice softened even more, tinged with amusement, "I plan to mess with you tonight, too. Will you let me?"

Such a shameless question left her speechless. Orlena hung up the phone, her heart still racing, and yet there was this surreal feeling. Yes, she was living with Brett now, with endless conversations by day and sharing a bed by night. It felt like waking up from a dream, laughing.

But then she pinched her own cheek as a reminder, "Orlena, you're in your

thirties. Act with some poise. You can't be swayed by mere sweet talk anymore."

She resolved to spend his money on their outing.

When dating a man, a woman always plans carefully. Orlena loved to look her

best, picking out a smart blouse and skirt with a beige coat draped over. She's statuesque and stunning.

Tracey, who had been visiting relatives with her grandson, came back just in time to see her. She beamed, "Enjoy your date. Young people should date. And if you don't come back tonight, it'll be fine. I hear Brockville has some new hotels with all the latest amenities. Have Brett take you to one."

Orlena wondered when Tracey had become so bold.

As they spoke, the driver arrived, and to her surprise, it was Donny who came to

pick her up.

He greeted Tracey, and Tracey handed him a box of asparagus. Donny loved the

stuff, "I'll gladly accept. Tonight, I'll have my wife roast some with bacon. It's perfect with a drink."

Tracey teased him not to overwork his wife.

Donny cracked a few more jokes

before ushering Orlena into the car. Orlena was familiar with Donny, but the age gap kept their conversation brief. Dwas Donny who broke the

silence. "I've been working with Mr. Brett for nearly 20 years. I'm like a son to Tracey. Years ago when my wife fell seriously ill, it was Tracey who found us a top doctor."

Orlena sensed their deep bond.

She thought she'd meet Brett outside, but to her surprise, the car pulled into the

office building.

It was now six o'clock. Most employees had left early, but some lingered. When

they saw Donny and the woman beside him, they pieced together her identity, Mr. Brett's girlfriend.

They all thought Orlena looked even more beautiful than in the magazines. She was so young, with flawless skin. How on earth did Mr. Brett win her over? Inside the office, Brett was still poring over documents with an engineer named Bailey. Brett frowned, "Bailey, we need to keep a close eye on these figures. We can't afford any more mistakes; time is running out. You get what I'm saying, right?"

Bailey's face flushed red. "Yes, I'll stay late tonight."

Brett stood up, patting his shoulder. "Take care of it tomorrow. Isn't it your daughter's birthday today? Leave early, get her a cake, and celebrate properly. You haven't spent much time with her these past years, have you?" Bailey was visibly moved, his eyes glistening. "Thank you. I'll leave right away."

Brett gave him another pat, feeling for his hardworking colleagues.

In the midst of this, Donny brought in Orlena.

Used to the more casual appearance of female colleagues, Bailey was taken

aback by the delicate beauty of the girl before him, turning beet red. Donny, realizing the atmosphere, let out a playful exclamation. "Oops, it totally slipped my mind to introduce you all. But let's have Mr. Brett take the stage."

Brett's gaze lingered on Orlena. She looked stunning today. He fished out a pair of cigarettes from his pocket and flicked one to Bailey, who was daydreaming with a grin. "Don't mind his jabbering. Bailey, this here is my better half, Orlena."

Bailey pinched the cigarette between his fingers, extending his other hand. He was a bit awkward. "Hello."

Orlena's cheeks flushed. Brett called her his "better half," which made her feel a mix of shyness and joy.

She hesitated to reach out her hand, and Bailey felt self-conscious about his rough, possibly dirty hands. He tried to wipe them on his clothes.

Orlena quickly said, "No, it's not that." She extended her delicate hand, which was enveloped by his. His palm was damp with sweat.

Bailey was a straightforward guy, scratching his head. "You sure are a looker."

Orlena's face turned an even deeper shade of red.

Brett tidied up the table and stood up, adding, "Alright, let's not keep Bailey from

his daughter's birthday party any longer. Let's call it a day, folks."noveldrama

Orlena felt bad for not bringing a gift.

Bailey waved it off. "No worries."

Brett pulled out his wallet, drawing out a stack that looked to be about $500. "Go

buy your girl a pretty dress."

Bailey tried to refuse but ended up accepting it. After he left, Brett actually went

back to work.

Orlena bit her lip and moved closer to him. "You tricked me into coming here."