Chapter 317

Ryland's expression soured. "Hey, Besty, that's not entirely fair. Good men still exist, like me, for instance."

He tapped his chest with a smug grin.

Besty fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Refusing to indulge his antics, Betsy instructed her assistant to handle him.

Noticing Betsy's firm demeanor, Ryland couldn't resist messing with her.

He sank onto the sofa, legs crossed lazily.′′Amajor client like me, and this is how I'm treated? Maybe |should report your office for poor customer service."

Betsy's jaw tightened, fury simmering beneath her composed surface.

What an insufferable fool!

Forcing a rigid smile, she gritted her teeth. "I'm sorry, Mr. Brooks," she replied.

Ryland nodded, clearly pleased, and motioned to the empty chair beside him.

Betsy inhaled deeply, gathered a pile of the newest design catalogs, and seated herself. "These are our latest designs. Any styles your mother might enjoy?"

Ryland lazily flipped through the pages, dismissing every option. "This color's too loud. Mom wouldn't wear it. That design feels outdated. This fabric looks scratchy."

His criticisms never ended.

Betsy clutched the catalogs until her knuckles ached, resisting the urge to toss them at his smug face.

How could someone as wonderful as Lillian have such an unbearable brother?

It was incomprehensible. Yet Betsy's professionalism kept her temper in check.

All she could do was smile politely beside him.

Once Ryland finally left, satisfied with the minimal progress, Betsy felt utterly drained.

Men were exhausting.

Nolan had been difficult enough, and Ryland offered no relief.

After a brief pause, Betsy went upstairs.

Eleanor was meticulously tracing patterns into fabric, fully absorbed.

Without lifting her gaze, she asked flatly, "Did Mr. Brooks settle on a design?"

Betsy's frustration surged anew at the mention. "He chose one, kind of, but then found flaws in every detail.Said he'd return in a few days."

The more she thought, the hotter her temper flared. "And get this-he actually requested that you handle him personally. Who does he think he is?"

Eleanor calmly set the craft knife on the table, unbothered. "You manage him. I won't meet with him.From now on, all Brooks Group orders are yours."

Betsy's heart sank, her expression crumpling.

Eleanor had just left her with a serious headache.

Yet being a subordinate, what option did Betsy truly have other than to follow orders?

Just thinking about that irritating Ryland made Betsy long to find him and erase that arrogant grin.

Observing Betsy's silence, Eleanor finally glanced up. "What? Something wrong?"

Betsy waved her hands frantically. "No, nothing wrong."

Once she left the store, Eleanor headed to the orphanage. She joined Myah to prepare lunch for the children and then played games with them.

As the kids took a nap, Eleanor perched on the front steps, gazing at the somber gray sky.

Her phone came out, and she lingered over Nolan's contact photo before slipping it back into her bag.

He was probably with Elora right now.

There was no reason to call and set herself up for disappointment.

She needed to get used to being independent again.

After all, she had been alone for a long time.

Besides,herparents were with her now.

She felt content.