Chapter 5

Over the next few weeks, Anna gradually got the hang of juggling her double life. Tuesdays and Thursdays were for classes, but on the other days, she embraced her identity as Mrs. Hoffman.

She'd make sure dinner was ready and waiting before Lionel stepped through the door, and she was constantly scribbling down every tip her professor shared into her sketchbook.

Vivian was the only real friend Anna had in class. Slightly older by two years, Vivian was always cheerful and, having spent three years at an ad agency, she totally understood how the design industry worked.

"You've got a great sense of line," Vivian remarked one day after class while leafing through Anna's sketchbook. "But you're being too careful—you've got to loosen up and be bolder."

Anna nodded gratefully. Thanks to Vivian's encouragement, she started experimenting with all sorts of styles, from realistic to abstract—even giving comic-style stories a try.

"You should totally start a social media account," Vivian suggested. "That's how a lot of freelance illustrators land gigs these days."

Anna hesitated. She wondered if Lionel would be cool with that. But deep inside, a quiet voice kept urging her to just go for it.

That night, she secretly set up an account called "Art by Annie" and uploaded a few of her class assignments.

To her surprise, by the next morning, she already had a dozen likes and three encouraging comments. One in particular caught her eye: [Love how you handle light and shadow. Interested in taking on commercial projects?] It was signed "Zayn's Café."

Anna's heart skipped a beat, wondering if it was Zayn. She hesitated all day, and finally, in the evening, she sent a DM: [Thanks for enjoying my work. What kind of project do you have in mind?]

The reply was almost instant. [Menu redesign. Let's talk money in person. Can you swing by the café tomorrow afternoon so we can go over the details?]

Anna bit her lip and peeked at the calendar. Tomorrow was Wednesday—Lionel would be stuck in meetings all day and wouldn't notice where she'd gone. Anna exhaled slowly, steadied herself, and typed out a single word: [Okay.]

*****

Zayn's Café was nestled in a quiet alley of the city's art district. When Anna pushed open the heavy wooden door, a wave of fresh coffee aroma washed over her. The décor inside was minimalist but packed with creative flair—local artwork covered the walls, and a cozy little bookshelf sat in the corner.

"Ms. Lane, over here!" Zayn looked up from behind the counter, shooting her an easygoing smile. Dressed in a plain white tee and jeans, he seemed a lot more relaxed than back at the party.

Anna slipped into a window seat, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. "Mr. Watkins..."

"Just call me Zayn," he grinned, setting down a latte and a slice of red velvet cake in front of her. "Give these a shot—they're our best sellers."

The latte had an artfully crafted leaf pattern on top. Anna took a small sip, and couldn't help her eyes lighting up at the smooth, rich taste. "Wow, this is really good."

"Alright, let's get down to business," Zayn said, pulling out a menu. "We're planning a total visual makeover—new menus, cup sleeves, even fresh wall art for the café. Tony Sutton—that artist from the party—recommended you."

"Me?" Anna nearly choked on her coffee. "But I haven't really built up much of a portfolio."

"I've checked out your class assignments, and you've got real spark," Zayn said earnestly. "Commercial illustration doesn't have to be super technical—it's about having your own unique vision and putting emotion into your work."

He pulled up a few images on his phone. "We're after a style that's warm and healing. Do you think you could try something like this?"

Anna stared at the reference images, and suddenly, inspiration struck. "What if... what if we created a cityscape built entirely out of desserts? Like hot air balloons made from macarons, a waterfall flowing with chocolate..."

Zayn's eyes lit up instantly. "That's exactly the vibe! Think you could put together a quick draft?"

They quickly agreed on a price and deadline, and Zayn's offer was way above anything Anna had imagined.

"This is standard for the industry," Zayn said, catching her surprised expression. "Art deserves respect—never settle for less than you're worth."

As Anna walked out of the café, she felt light on her feet. Not only did she secure her first ever commercial project, she'd finally gotten some real recognition for her talent. The proud, accomplished feeling inside was so much better than getting any fancy handbag.

But her good mood evaporated the moment she reached the front door. Lionel's car was already in the driveway—he'd come home way earlier than usual.

"Where have you been?" Lionel demanded, standing in the center of the living room, expression thunderous. Her sketchbook was splayed open on the coffee table—the very one that was supposed to stay hidden in her drawer.

Anna felt her heart plummet. "I... I went to see a friend."

"A friend?" Lionel sneered, picking up the paper. "Or maybe a client, huh?"

Only now did Anna realize she'd messed up—she'd left that sketch from her meeting with Zayn tucked right inside her sketchbook. Her blood rushed to her head as shock and anger flooded in. "Were you snooping through my stuff?"

"This is my house. There's nothing here I'm not allowed to see," Lionel replied, his voice cold as ice. "I let you enroll in those classes just to keep you occupied—not for you to start taking on work."

"I just wanted to see what I'm truly capable of," Anna said, forcing her voice to remain even.

"And then what?" Lionel stepped closer, his tone frosty. "So the whole city can gossip that Mrs. Hoffman is hustling for cash? Or is this just you dying to prove a point?"

Anna clenched her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms. "I want to show I'm not just a trophy wife."

She instantly regretted her words. Lionel's expression turned deadly, and he set the sketchbook down with deliberate slowness. "Very well. Since you've suddenly got such a mind of your own, your credit card gets cut off starting today."

Anna froze. That card was the only money she had access to—her entire financial lifeline.

"And another thing," Lionel added, his tone frosty. "From now on, the driver will wait at the campus gate every time you have class. If you're not out within ten minutes, you can walk home by yourself."

He turned on his heel and went upstairs, leaving Anna standing there, her heart pounding and breath shaky.

Moving robotically, she gathered up the scattered sketches. Her gaze fell to the rough café drawing—Zayn had called her art "unique and full of feeling," but to Lionel, it was just an act of defiance.

Late at night, with the house cloaked in silence, Anna secretly booted up her laptop and began designing the menu draft for Zayn's Café.

The bluish glow washed over her stubborn, delicate features, catching the shimmer of tears in her eyes. But beneath that heartbreak burned an unshakable resolve.