In the bathroom, he was so enthusiastic and powerful.
Irish was too tired to lift her arms when he carried her back to the bedroom.
Joseph felt contented, leaning against the bed, and he could not help but bow and kiss the woman in his arms. She was powerless and said, "Your stubble hurt me."
He touched his chin and smiled.
"Oh." Irish, lying on his chest, whispered, "Today, Shirley apologized to me, and she said a lot about my mother."
Joseph touched her hair gently, "So, you decided to forgive her?"
"Ruby and Roy's death hit her quite hard, and I looked at her like that, so I was also quite sad." Irish leaned against him and sighed.
"Forgive her." Joseph also sighed, "Whether it is hateful or not, eventually living is the best."
Irish raised her hand, with his fingers gently winding, "So many things have happened, I have no strength to hate now. Like Ruby, in fact, I quite hate her, but she is so gone, I am very sad. You're right, even if you hate people, as long as it is alive, it is the best. She's alive, and you have the power to hate, and sometimes hatred is a power."
Joseph touched her head, kissed her head, and said gently, "You can think so, indicating that you have come out of hatred; this is really good. Irish, I hope you can be happy in the future."
"As long as you don't leave me, I'll be happy." Irish hugged him.
Joseph was such a clever man, seeing her so, then smiled and asked, "Rosy looked for you?"
Rosy sent a short message this morning, but she didn't show up at noon. Apparently, she sent it to Irish.
Irish knew she could not hide, looking up into his eyes, she said, "Yes, she offered 100 million to buy you. 100 million! You are precious."
"Are you going to sell me?" Joseph teased.
Irish thought, "Then I have to know the attitude of Vincent."
Joseph deliberately teased her, "Vincent said Rosy was young and beautiful, no worse than you."
"Am I old?" Irish stared at him. Joseph's big hand rubbed her chin, gently raised her face, and carefully looked, "You are okay."
"What do you mean, okay?" Irish was unhappy.
Joseph smiled curtly, "You just don't look like sixteen."
"Joseph, you are so demanding!" Irish sat up, "I'm 29, and you want me to be sixteen? When I'm out now, many people think I'm in my early twenties! Do you think my skin care products are bought for nothing? I hate you!"
Irish was to go down. Joseph grabbed her, "What are you going to do?"
"Use the mask!" Irish exhaled.
"Don't do it." Joseph hurriedly took her back into his arms, "How can the little girl not afford to accept a joke? If you do that, outsiders will think I've taken a daughter out."
Irish leaned on him, peering at him, "That is right; otherwise, I would think you are not good at chatting."
Joseph could not help laughing and tightened his arm, thinking this woman could only hear good words.
"How did you say that? The young and beautiful woman captures your heart?"
"This is very unfair to men, monogamy."
"You want three wives and four mistresses?" Irish rubbed his face hard.
Joseph let him do that, "I am so highly valuable."
"Well, tomorrow I'll tell Rosy I agree to sell you." Irish pinched him hard.
Joseph cried, thinking this woman really exerted her energy.
"You forgot what I said? I told you, if you betray me, I'll cut your dick and air-dry it!" Irish gnashed her teeth.
Joseph was appalled, "Before being air-dried, is it necessary for me to play in time?"
Irish was stunned, "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." Joseph said with a bad smile, turned over, and pressed her down, whose thin lips were closed to her ears, "I think I want to..."
Irish cried, and soon the cry was blocked by his lips.
Inside the room, it was getting hotter.
****
The next day, it was hot and dry. Cicadas cried louder. There were few people on the street.
During the hot and languid days in August, people sought refuge near the air-conditioner.
That day, Irish accidentally received a call from Professor Tim. Originally, Professor Tim thought about asking her to Midtown Manhattan, but he let Irish pick a place, saying that there was something he would like to talk about with Irish.
He must have something to ask for Irish.
Irish thought about it and told Professor Tim, "Then let's meet at Ledo Cafe."
She was just going there to buy something and didn't want to go to Midtown.
Professor Tim agreed with her quickly.
Roy's death directly affected the stock price of the Runestone Group. On the opening day, the stock price fell below 7.6 percent, and shareholders panicked. Soon there was a sell-off, followed by a swarm of people.
Some sold, and others bought in.
Irish did not understand these logics, just vaguely heard shareholders say, as if the two forces were fighting. So, instead, the shareholders became cannon fodder.
At times, Irish would entertain the notion that the destruction of the Runestone would yield favorable outcomes, specifically liberating her from the constraints that bound her.
Sitting by the window, she saw Professor Tim's car. After he stopped, he walked into the dining room, wiping his sweat. The shirt on his body was sweaty. Such weather was really outrageous, and people could not live without the air conditioner.
Seeing that Irish had come, Professor Tim was very excited. Before he sat down, he said, "Dr. Irish, I'm here to invite you back to the Linkus Research Institute."
The sun rose from the west. So far, she still remembers how she left the Linkus Research Institute.
"There's a case. We can't handle it. And you're the only one we can turn to." Professor Tim said earnestly.
Irish did not immediately answer, called the waiter, ordered a cup of coffee for Professor Tim, and then lightly said, "I have been used to slow life. Besides, I haven't been to the association to do a mental evaluation, so even if I want to return, I can't."
Professor Tim heard this, thinking that she was still blaming him, he said, "I will go to the association to personally communicate, Dr. Irish. This case is very special. Blair and Cheska have used all the methods, but it didn't help. You study dream analysis, and you can only handle this case. I think the association will be accommodated."
"You want a counselor with mental problems to treat a patient?" Irish gave him a faint smile.
Professor Tim wiped the sweat off his forehead, pleading, "Dr. Irish, I implore you not to express your anger towards me at this moment. You are perpetually dedicated to your work, but have you ever considered delving into the world of psychology? Must you rely solely on financial savings for the remainder of your days?"
Irish thought, "I can go back, but I'll get a 50% pay rise."
"No problem, you deserve it." Irish was shocked. This case seemed tough; otherwise, how could Professor Tim so readily have promised? She had just mentioned it to let him give up.
Professor Tim said anxiously, "Do you agree? I'll show you the case."
Irish was helpless. The contract had not been signed, and she had to work first.
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