Chapter 154: Chapter 152: You’re My Woman, So of Course I’ll Pamper You (3)
Chloe Marshall’s face instantly flushed red. She ignored the second half of Ethan Ellsworth’s comment and patted her chest. "Boss Ellsworth, how could you say that? I have boobs! If you don’t believe me, you can feel for yourself!"
Ethan Ellsworth reached out and felt her forehead. Chloe Marshall was stunned. "Boss Ellsworth, not my head, my chest!"
"I was checking to see if you’re sick in the head."
When Chloe Marshall came to her senses, she realized what she’d just said, her face turning an impossible shade of red. "Um, Boss Ellsworth, what I meant was... I meant that I do have boobs. I just do, that’s all."
"You do? Are you that eager for me to prove it?"
Chloe Marshall shook her head.
Ethan Ellsworth nodded. "Alright. I can tell you want me to prove it."
He reached out and laid a hand on her chest. Chloe Marshall’s entire body went stiff, and she sat there, completely dumbfounded.
He moved his hand slightly. "Not bad. They feel pretty good. You really do have them. I was wrong about you."
"You—Boss Ellsworth—"
"Idiot. My test has proven that you definitely have something up there. Want me to check and see if you have a butt, too?"
Chloe Marshall shook her head frantically, like a bobblehead.
Ethan Ellsworth couldn’t help but burst out laughing. "What a complete idiot!"
Chloe Marshall huffed and turned to stare out the window, ignoring him.
’But her heart was pounding, thumping so hard it felt like it was in her throat. If she didn’t get it under control, it felt like it would burst right out of her chest. The sensation was terrifying.’
Seeing her silence, Ethan Ellsworth thought she was angry. "Are you mad?"
She turned back to him. "No. I just feel like it’s a little hard to breathe."
"It’s not your first time on a plane. Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly developed a fear of flying."
Chloe Marshall didn’t explain. "Boss Ellsworth, I’m going to try to sleep for a while. Wake me when we land."
"Alright."
Chloe Marshall slid down in her seat, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
As she slept, however, her head inevitably drooped onto his shoulder. Ethan Ellsworth shifted uncomfortably, but seeing how soundly she was sleeping, he let her be.
A full day of training had left Nora Ainsworth exhausted, but it was also fulfilling. It made time pass more quickly and left her with little room to overthink. It was the best of both worlds, truly a good thing.
But leaving the office in the evening, a sense of desolation would wash over her. With Chloe away, Nora Ainsworth didn’t feel like going home tonight. She said to Zeke Marshall, "I still have that apartment at Lips in Motion that I haven’t sold. I’ll stay there tonight."
Zeke Marshall didn’t press the issue. "Alright. In that case, Nora, you should head back and get some rest."
Nora Ainsworth nodded and started walking along the sidewalk toward the nearby apartment complex.
It was a bit chilly that evening, so she pulled her coat tighter around herself. ’Anyway,’ she thought, ’the reality show hasn’t aired yet. No one’s really paying attention to me based on a single rumor.’
But she was sorely mistaken. She hadn’t walked far before a reporter, who had clearly been waiting, spotted her and rushed forward for an interview.
"Miss Ainsworth, what’s your take on the recent scandal?"
Nora Ainsworth was taken aback by the reporter’s sudden appearance, but she explained calmly, "He’s just my manager."
The reporter asked a few more questions and then left.
She reached an intersection and was about to cross the road when a luxury car came speeding toward her. Startled, she froze, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the glaring headlights. Then she saw the person inside.
It was him.
’What a coincidence.’
Charlotte Young stuck her head out of the car. "Did you do that on purpose?!"
Nora Ainsworth ignored her and continued crossing the street, her figure vanishing into the stream of traffic.
Quentin Grant gunned the engine and sped down the street. When they reached Charlotte Young’s home, his voice was cold and distant. "Get out."
Charlotte Young said nothing, simply pushing the door open and hurrying out.
Agitated, Quentin Grant drove recklessly through the streets.
The car headed in the direction of the Lips in Motion complex. He hadn’t driven far before he finally spotted her walking ahead.
He slowed down, keeping a short distance behind her.
Remembering his own words, Quentin Grant slammed on the brakes. He just sat there, watching as she walked away under the streetlights, growing more and more distant until she blurred into a tiny dot.
’He felt like he was going crazy. He couldn’t believe it. She had really just left, escaped from his side. For her, it was apparently that simple.’
A convulsive pain seized his chest, leaving him frozen in his seat like a statue.
In the end, he couldn’t overcome his own feelings. He drove to the Lips in Motion building and parked downstairs. Looking up, he saw the lights on in an eighth-floor apartment.
Before stepping into the elevator, Quentin Grant thought, ’What the hell am I doing?’
’I’m the one who swore she wouldn’t have a chance even if she came begging, yet here I am, showing up at her door. There are so many women in the world; why am I so fixated on just one?’
’That’s what I tell myself, but I’m still acting like a damn fool, desperate to talk to her. Just one word would be enough. Even half a word.’
When the elevator stopped at the eighth floor and the doors slid open, he saw that her apartment door was ajar.
Quentin Grant had already forgotten his earlier pronouncements. His heart tightened, torn between anger and a sliver of joy.
’He was angry because she’d left the door unlocked. What if some creep had come in?’
’The joy was because, luckily, it was him. This made it easy for him to get inside.’
And so, he pushed the door open.
The door swung open silently. He stood in the entryway and immediately saw her on the balcony.
He closed the door behind him and walked, step by step, to the entrance of the balcony.
Hearing the noise, Nora Ainsworth whipped her head around.
Their eyes met. A jolt went through Quentin Grant. She just stood there, her face streaked with tears.
"You must have a lot of free time, Young Master Grant. Isn’t it a bit inappropriate to just barge into someone’s home?" She casually wiped away the tear tracks that betrayed her sorrow.
Quentin Grant stepped closer. "Why are you crying?"
"It’s late. It’s not appropriate for a single man and woman to be alone in a room together. Besides, I’m just starting my career, and getting caught up in a scandal wouldn’t be good for it. You should leave now, President Grant."
He seized her wrist, his voice turning icy. "I asked you, why are you crying?"
Nora Ainsworth tried to yank her arm away. "What are you doing here tonight, President Grant? We’re not involved anymore. Stop harassing me!"
"Heh—" He gave a cold laugh. "You think it’s over just because you say so?"
"Are you eating your own words? Have you forgotten what you said? Do you need a reminder?" Nora Ainsworth glared at him. "Are you that shameless? That desperate to be with me? Can’t Charlotte Young satisfy you? Or have all the other women in the world died off, forcing you to come after me?"
"There are many women in the world, and it’s true, Charlotte Young is beautiful. Especially now that she’s my fiancée. Whatever I do with her... What about you? You tell me, and I’ll give it back to you."
His eyes glistened. "You stole my heart. Now give it back to me."
Nora Ainsworth suddenly went quiet. She averted her gaze. "I’ll be honest with you. The only reason I got together with you was for revenge. You threatened and forced me, and I told you back then, ’You’d better not fall in love with me, or you’ll be the one to suffer.’ Well, now my goal is accomplished. So, Quentin Grant? How does it feel? Are you furious? It tastes pretty bitter, doesn’t it?"
