Raymond Thorne looked at Anya Forrest’s flustered appearance and couldn’t help but laugh, "Just kidding, no dark circles, you look great."
Even though Raymond said so, Anya still took out a small mirror and scrutinized herself several times. Only after confirming there were no dark circles did she finally breathe a sigh of relief, "I told you, my makeup skills are so good, how could I look like a panda?"
Seeing Raymond looking at her with a smile, her expression turned somewhat awkward, "Sorry for making you laugh."
"Not at all." Raymond smiled at her, "You’re particularly cute."
Anya smiled and lowered her eyes, biting her lip and staying silent.
"What’s wrong? Are you upset?" Raymond raised his hands in surrender, "Don’t be mad. I won’t tease you anymore."
Anya still didn’t say anything.
Raymond couldn’t help but sigh, "It seems you’ve grown tired of this old fellow."
"Nonsense!" Anya couldn’t help but retort, "You’re not an old man at all! You’re at the best and most attractive age for a man! Young girls are all drooling over you!"
Raymond chuckled, "Are there really many young girls drooling over me?"
"Really." Anya said sincerely.
Raymond maintained himself well, and with money and power, he belonged to the type that young girls favored the most.
Raymond looked at Anya and asked, "Including you? Anya, are you drooling too?"
"I..." Anya suddenly froze, lowered her head, and tightened her lips.
Raymond frowned slightly, and when he looked at Anya again, his eyes showed a hint of impatience.
As a man of his status, his voice turned cold, "I’ve already settled the bill. Take your time eating, I..."
"I’m drooling too." Anya suddenly interrupted Raymond, "But I’m scared, I’m afraid you’ll be mad."
Raymond’s movements paused, surprised, "Scared? Why are you scared? Do I look scary?"
"No." Anya’s voice was small, "I lied to you, I’m afraid you’ll be angry, that you’ll hate me."
"Lied to me?" Raymond raised an eyebrow, "What did you lie about?"
In fact, since knowing Anya, he had given her some expensive gifts. This text is hosted at novelꜰire.net
Anya would accept them each time but soon return them with gifts of similar value but more thoughtful.
This was rather novel for Raymond; it was the first time a woman had given him gifts in return.
"I..." Anya hesitated for a long time before stammering, "I told you, you mustn’t be mad."
Raymond, no matter what, wouldn’t take issue with a young girl, but his playful side kept it hidden. Instead, he kept a stern face and said, "I can’t guarantee that. Are you still going to tell me?"
Anya bit her lip and then put on a determined expression, "I’ll tell you." After a pause, she said, "Actually my job isn’t a painter; I’m an agent."
Anya made a brave face, "Actually, I’m not that gentle. I’m quite fierce!"
"There is..." Anya thought for a moment, "No more."
"Really! I said it all." Anya nearly raised her hand in a vow, then looked pitifully at Raymond, "Could you please not be mad at me?"
Actually, Raymond knew this long ago. Ever since he became interested in Anya, he had someone investigate her identity, so naturally, he was aware of her profession.
However, he hadn’t revealed a thing and instead kept a stern face as he asked, "Why did you lie to me?"
"I really didn’t mean to deceive you," Anya said hastily and twisted her fingers, "I’m just afraid you have biases against people in the entertainment industry. Plus, I thought you might prefer girls who study painting, so I made up an identity. But I really can paint, and I’m quite good, actually. To be honest, I often think if I can’t make it in the entertainment world, I could open a studio to teach children to paint. Maybe plant some flowers, raise two or three fat cats..."