Trapped with My Billionaire Ex-Husband by Mariya Mercedes

Chapter 43
BLAIRE
The next day, Blaze became more stable and regained more strength. It also means that his b*dy can now handle the surgery. It only leaves me with one in my hand. I need to
money for the operation. I
d no idea how long I had been staring at the card in
my hand. I think bumping into Sebastian when I’m in New York is the least I should worry about. As long as I stay away from the usual place that he hangs out, I’m good.
get
the
Ethan is busy playing with Blaze on the hospital bed. The doctor has already removed his dextrose, and he can now fully move around the room. We’re only waiting for a few more additional laboratory results before his doctor discharges him.
“Ethan, I need to go back home to take care of a few things. Will you be okay to stay with Blaze for a while?” I asked him. Though I know he would likely say yes, I still don’t want to assume, especially right after I told him that I shouldn’t be accepting help from
him.
“Of course, Blaire. Do what you have to do. I’ll take care of Blaze for you,” he said.
I gave him a grateful smile before I said goodbye to Blaze. I k*ssed him on the forehead. “I’ll see you later tonight, my love. Mommy just needs to fix things back home,” I told him.
He nodded. “Take care, mommy!”
I mouthed “thank you” once again to Ethan before I left his room. I quickly took a cab to go back to our house.
It took me a few minutes before I finally reached our doorstep. I immediately went inside before I picked up my phone from my pocket and dialed the number on the card. It only took a few rings before someone answered on the other line.
“Hi, I’m looking for Miss Isabelle Riggs.” I greeted.
“This is she. What can I do for you?” she answered.

“Hi, my name is Blaire Allicent Banks, owner of Sweet Life Café. I got your card from Ethan. And I’m interested in talking about your offer,” I said, going straight to the point.
“Oh, hi, Miss Banks! Yes, I visited your café once when I visited Hawaii. And I loved all your desserts. It took you too long to call us,” she said. She sound so excited. It seems she really likes our desserts.
“Yeah, I was swamped with a ton of things, and the thought of relocating to New York hadn’t crossed my mind,” I explained, a hint of regret lacing my words. “I’m sorry if I
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didn’t reach out to you sooner.”
“It’s okay. Let me check if the project is still on. Hold for a moment,” she reassured me before placing me on hold.
Time seemed to stretch as I waited anxiously, the weight of uncertainty pressing on me. My mind raced with thoughts of the project’s fate, knowing that its status held the key to securing the funds desperately needed for Blaze’s surgery.
With each passing second, I found myself silently praying, hoping that the door to this opportunity remained open, offering a lifeline in the face of financial challenges. The future hung in the balance, and the outcome of this call had the power to shape the course of not only my career but also Blaze’s journey toward healing.
After what felt like an eternity, Isabelle’s voice finally reached my ears, breaking the anxious silence. “Miss Banks, thank you for waiting. But I’m afraid there’s been a slight change in the offer. If you’re still interested, I’d be happy to tell you about the details,”
she said.
“I appreciate the update. Please, go ahead. I’m just grateful that you’re still considering me despite my delayed confirmation,” I replied, trying to conceal the nervous undercurrent in my voice.
“Well, I received a memo from the head office, and it appears we won’t be requiring a contractor for our desserts anymore. Instead, we’ve decided to establish an in-house patisserie,” Isabelle revealed.
The news reverberated through the phone, introducing an unexpected twist to the narrative. A surge of surprise mingled with anticipation as the implications of this change unfolded. “An in-house patisserie?” I repeated, the words hanging in the air like a tantalizing promise, carrying both uncertainty and excitement.
“Yes, they believe having our own dedicated patisserie will elevate the dining. experience,” Isabelle explained, a hint of enthusiasm in her voice. “It’s a chance for us to create something unique and signature. But don’t worry; we won’t be taking your recipe. You’ll still be the one handling everything. We’ll provide the raw materials and support with the workloads.”
I processed the information, a mix of relief and curiosity settling in. “Does this mean the fifty percent advance payment for the whole contract is off the table as well?” I inquired, a touch of embarrassment coloring my tone, knowing that the financial was a significant factor in my consideration of this opportunity.
aspect
“I’m afraid it is. But if you really need the money, I can talk to my boss to see if we can work around it to suit your needs,” she responded, her willingness to accommodate easing the weight of the changed terms.
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The possibility of adapting the terms for financial considerations lingered in the conversation. In a moment of hopeful anticipation, I couldn’t help but ask, “Wait, are you saying I got the job?” The surprise in my voice mirrored the mix of emotions. swirling within as the realization of a potential new chapter unfolded.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I must have gotten carried away. I really like your cakes, and I firmly believe that you’re the perfect one for the job. But we still need you to come down here at our site to make some samples for our boss,” she said.
“That wouldn’t be a problem. I know it’s a bit embarrassing, but the truth is, I really need the financial support.”
“Don’t we all?” she chuckled warmly. “No need to be ashamed, Miss Banks,” she reassured, her words carrying a genuine understanding that instantly eased concerns. “So, when do we expect you here at our hotel, Miss Banks?”
my
“Could you give me a little more time? I’m sorry; I’m on a tight budget right now. So, I still need more time to come up with the money to buy plane tickets.”
“Oh, that wouldn’t be a problem. But are you available anytime tonight?” She asked with a note of urgency in her tone.
“Yeah, I am,” I answered, a bit confused but willing to accommodate the unexpected request.
“That’s great! I’ll book you the earliest flight. I’ll send you the details once I’m done,” she said, her enthusiasm palpable through the phone. “Could you text me your email address where I can send the details?”
“Of course, I’ll text it to you right away,” I replied, hastily retrieving my phone to share the necessary information.