When he looked up again, the smile on James Grant’s face had vanished.
His dark eyes were cold and indifferent, devoid of any emotion: "Just another vain woman, I’ve seen plenty."
Summer Monroe’s eyes flashed with a glint deep within, then she smiled softly.
"Miss Clayton is probably forced by circumstances, isn’t she? Everyone has to look out for themselves. Since my husband passed away, I’ve received his inheritance but been left all alone with no one to help me. Such a situation is quite helpless."
James Grant’s eyes remained indifferent, not replying.
The office door was knocked.
Lynn Yates walked in, and upon seeing James Grant, her eyes curved with a smile: "James, I brought you some osmanthus cakes I made myself. Have a taste." This text is hosted at n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net
Today she came looking for him specially dressed in a gentle light-colored cheongsam, her waist cinched, highlighting an innocent charm.
The osmanthus cakes were placed in front of James Grant.
Opening the box, a sweet and fresh osmanthus scent wafted up.
Lynn Yates pinched a piece with her delicate fingers, pretending to feed him.
James Grant frowned slightly, a hint of disdain hidden in his deep eyes, yet he masked it with indifference.
He hesitated for a few seconds, then relaxed his expression, took the osmanthus cake, and bit a small piece himself.
He replied faintly with a single word: "Hm."
Summer Monroe pursed her lips on the side, pretending to tease.
"Miss Yates, it’s rare to see you care so much about someone. You used to be all focused on your career."
Lynn Yates pushed the osmanthus cakes closer to James Grant.
"James is a good marriage prospect, don’t you think, Miss Monroe? He has a career, and I have ambition."
"Then I wish you a happy engagement."
With that, Summer Monroe checked the time, said she had something to do, and got up to leave.
James Grant, holding on to his last bit of patience, gazed coolly at Lynn Yates, tapping his fingers on the desk.
"Miss Yates, I’ve eaten the cakes, and I have things to attend to. Why don’t you leave as well?"
"James, I think you must know that the marriage between the Yates Family and the Grant Family has a purpose," Lynn Yates mentioned the engagement casually: "But this purpose is beneficial to both of us, not detrimental. You’re a business person; you should understand better than me."
James Grant smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, instead carrying a faint, barely noticeable sarcasm.
"Whether I understand or not doesn’t matter. If Miss Yates doesn’t want to leave, you can stay here."
He lost interest in speaking to her and buried himself in work.
Lynn Yates’ expression changed for a moment, but thinking about building a relationship, she still stayed put, waiting for James Grant to finish his work.
Back in the office, Evelyn Clayton recalled the strange scent from Summer Monroe, feeling something was off.
She clicked her tongue lightly and took out her phone to call Yara Reagan.
"Can you help me find out if there’s a perfume that smells like medicine but is not a common perfume?"
"What is that, a perfume?"
On the other end, Yara Reagan was puzzled; is a medicinal-smelling perfume even a perfume?
It was indeed strange, and Evelyn Clayton, holding the phone, was even more curious.
"Yes, see if you can find it."
Yara Reagan hung up and searched online, also asking a few friends who were perfume masters, and they all said there was no such brand of perfume.
Evelyn Clayton clicked her tongue, frowning slightly: "That’s strange then."
Just as she finished speaking, Iris Lockwood, dressed in a puffy princess dress, walked over to her arrogantly.
Evelyn Clayton hung up the phone and looked at her with doubt.
And Iris Lockwood looked confidently as if she wasn’t lying: "I have it. I can give it to you, but you must agree to a condition."