Your First Love is Pregnant? I'm Done Being Mrs. Hawthorne!

### Chapter 73: A Man Not to be Trifled With

A wave of displeasure washed over Zachary Hawthorne. He left in silence, without a word to Nina Wainwright.

Nina Wainwright watched his car drive away through the floor-to-ceiling window, and her heart sank in spite of herself.

If Luna Sterling’s pregnancy was out in the open, the outcome might be just what she wished for. But if Zachary Hawthorne was the one hiding it, Nina didn’t dare investigate.

After finishing breakfast, she resumed her job search.

She had searched for nearly every job she felt qualified for, but with no success. Today, she felt aimless.

She looked at a job-search app on her phone and finally decided to try applying for clerk positions at a few companies. Even if the pay was lower, every little bit would add up.

After submitting her resume, she planned to head back and wait for a response before she could go for an interview.

On the ride back, Nina Wainwright propped her hand against the window, drowsily watching the scenery blur past, her mind a tangled mess.

The only thing that brought her any comfort now was the child in her belly.

She subconsciously touched her stomach. ’It’s been almost a month... I have two months left. I have to find a way to get a divorce, to leave Zachary Hawthorne for good. Otherwise, once I start showing, I won’t be that far along. It would be all too easy for Zachary to force me to get rid of it.’

Nina Wainwright thought to herself.

The bus reached the subway station entrance. She got off and, watching the crowds of people coming and going, found herself stopping in her tracks.

She didn’t really want to go back to Avelon Residence, but she had nowhere else to go.

After some thought, she headed to The Moonlight Tavern.

Catherine Grant loved this place. Since Nina had a rare day with nothing to do, she planned to stay until the afternoon before heading back.

It was still morning, so the tavern was nearly empty.

Nina Wainwright walked in and saw a lone young man behind the bar, his head bowed as he polished a glass. The dim light of the bar struck his brow, accentuating his high, sculpted features, as perfect as a carving.

Sensing his unusual air, Nina Wainwright realized this was probably the owner of the tavern.

The man seemed to sense her presence and looked up.

His eyes, sharp as a falcon’s, were cold and intensely aggressive.

Nina Wainwright met his gaze directly and felt a chill run through her. She quickly composed herself, however, and asked calmly, "Do you have... non-alcoholic drinks?"

"We have juice. Would you like a blend, or just a simple juice?" The man’s customer service was surprisingly good.

He had a look that said he wasn’t to be trifled with.

"A blend, please," Nina Wainwright said, then added after a moment’s thought, "I don’t really like apples, but anything else is fine."

Leo Larkin jotted it down, then asked, "Would you like anything else to eat? A fruit platter, perhaps, or some other snacks."

Nina Wainwright realized she might have stereotyped him. She’d assumed his cold appearance meant he was unapproachable, but she’d forgotten he was in the service industry.

"Hmm, it would be even better if you served lunch. I was planning on eating here," Nina Wainwright said, but she ordered a fruit platter for now.

The tavern had a freestanding bookshelf filled with all sorts of books—foreign novels, popular domestic web novels, and even literary classics.

Nina Wainwright pulled out a web novel. It was a good way to kill time, the kind of book you could read without thinking too hard. This sort of novel was the best for capturing one’s full attention and making time fly.

Not long after she sat down, Leo Larkin brought over a glass of juice and a platter of fruit. He then pointed to a sign on the table. "When it’s time for lunch, you can scan this QR code to access our tavern’s ordering system."

"Thank you," Nina Wainwright said, then took a sip of her juice.

The juice was fragrant and delicious, and it managed to dissipate some of her gloom.

She held the book, reading slowly and barely touching the fruit.

Just before lunchtime, she received a phone call. It was from one of the companies she had applied to—a foreign trade business. The main work involved writing up orders by hand; no computers were allowed.

Nina Wainwright answered the call, her voice gentle and soft. "Hello, this is Nina Wainwright."

A woman with a slight out-of-town accent replied, "I know who this is. The order-writing job isn’t tiring, but the pay isn’t high—twenty-five hundred a month, at most. Room and board aren’t included, so you’ll have to handle your own meals. The day ends at five p.m."

"I can’t do any heavy lifting at all. Can you guarantee that?" she asked quietly.

The woman on the phone paused for a moment, then couldn’t resist asking, "May I ask why?"

Nina Wainwright wondered if she should say anything. This company didn’t require a physical exam, and they had called her back so quickly. They were probably desperate to hire someone.

After a long silence, she finally said in a low voice, "I’m pregnant. The doctor said my condition is delicate, and I’m at high risk of a miscarriage..."

"In that case, why aren’t you resting at home? If something were to happen, our company can’t be held responsible," the woman said, sounding as if she was about to hang up.

Nina Wainwright grew anxious, and her voice rose slightly without her realizing. "I know my situation makes it difficult to hire me, but I really need this job."

The person on the other end was silent for a long time before saying uncertainly, "I’ll have to ask my boss."

With that, she hung up.

Nina Wainwright clutched her phone, staring blankly at the screen. She then set it down and took a frustrated gulp of her juice.

She couldn’t focus on her book anymore. Resting her chin on her hand, she watched the people passing by outside, wondering who had a job and who didn’t.

At the bar, the young woman next to Leo Larkin whispered, "Cathy brought her here last time to see my uncle about a job, but she only worked one night. I think she offended a customer and quit. My uncle said she’s too beautiful for that kind of scene."

"Mm," Leo Larkin responded, keeping his head down as he continued to polish a glass.

"She’s a beautiful dancer, boss. I don’t know why she quit," the girl continued to mutter.

"Mind your own business. What are you doing gossiping about others?" Leo Larkin set a glass down hard on the bar, his tone edged with disdain.

The young woman pouted but turned to get back to her work.

Nina Wainwright sat for a little while longer before her phone rang again. Seeing it was from another company she’d applied to, she immediately answered.

"This is Nina Wainwright, hello," she said, her voice even more polite than before.

Leo Larkin leaned against the bar, ostensibly polishing a glass, but listening to her conversation.

On the other end of the line, Nina Wainwright heard a woman say, "Congratulations, you’ve passed the interview. We can offer you a monthly salary of eight thousand, with lunch provided. There aren’t any major responsibilities; you’ll just be helping process new hires."

"Does it require working on a computer?" Nina Wainwright asked.

"You will for processing new hires, yes. Is it inconvenient for you to use a computer?" the other person asked, sounding surprised.

"No, it’s just that my lower back gives me some trouble, and I haven’t used a computer in years, so I’m not very skilled with them. I’m sorry," Nina Wainwright said, then hung up.

’Eight thousand a month just to process new hires... That’s too easy.’

’The moment the woman mentioned the salary, she had a feeling Zachary Hawthorne had pulled some strings behind the scenes.’