The entire stage play just now was centered around The Crimson Lady, all the spotlight moments were on her. Claire Prescott was so engrossed in watching that she forgot to pay attention to his feelings and experience.
Without her noticing, might he have been captivated by Skye Vance as well?
A strange sense of jealousy arose in her heart.
She didn’t dare to meet his gaze, only stared at the ground.
If her guess was correct, Skye probably has feelings for him...
Could they be exes?
With this thought, she couldn’t help but tighten her grip on Keane Lowell’s hand.
Keane lowered his gaze to look at their intertwined hands, responding to her, "Met a few times at home, the old lady likes listening to the piano, and invites her over occasionally."
The implication.
They have merely met and are not exes.
Claire’s eyes gradually lit up, the tension in her heart easing a bit.
She continued to ask, "Was the stage play just now good?"
The man turned to look at her, answering perfunctorily, "It’s alright."
He added.
"The experience was nice."
Experience?
Could it be the experience of having a private viewing?
Alright.
"President Lowell is generous, I originally invited you to watch the play, but didn’t expect you to book the entire venue," Claire’s voice was graceful yet bold, with a hint of praising his wealth.
"You didn’t like it?" he asked with a meaningful look.
His eyes were deep black like the night, with a gentle yet intense gaze.
Meeting his gaze, her ears felt vaguely warm.
Her smile faintly restrained, she said, "I liked it."
Unfortunately, the road wasn’t that long, and they soon arrived at the parking lot. Keane released her hand and gentlemanly opened the door to the passenger seat for her.
Her hand suddenly felt empty, still holding onto his warmth, making her momentarily uncomfortable.
Seemingly addicted to the feeling, she wanted him to hold her hand a bit longer.
She silently bent forward and sat in the car, keeping quiet, no longer overthinking.
The car moved steadily onto the road.
Looking at the night scenery outside, she now felt that sitting in his passenger seat was far more pleasant than the stage play earlier. The turns, lane changes, overtakes, and even brakes, she could all sense his charisma.
Calm, unflappable.
Light fell through the car window onto him, reflecting his distinct profile, with features blending with light and shadow, reminiscent of a cinematic love-at-first-sight shot.
The more she thought, the more she felt like she was entranced.
At a traffic light junction.
Catching him in a sidelong glance as their eyes inadvertently met.
Quickly, she returned to her senses, lowering her gaze to the bouquet in her hands.
"Claire."
The man called her softly.
She replied naturally, "What’s up?"
Keane looked at her and the flowers, his voice low and magnetic, "Will you trim the flowers once you’re home?"
Upon hearing this.
Claire’s face slightly stiffened, suddenly recalling cutting the flowers in front of him this afternoon.
She quickly shook her head, saying, "No."
"I’ll put them in a vase," her tone particularly earnest.
Keane’s eyes held a shadowy light, speaking leisurely, "If you plan to use them for tea, I won’t send any more in the future."
"..."
Claire was tongue-tied for a moment, retorting defiantly, "Since you’ve given them to me, the right to deal with them should be mine, let’s be generous."
"Did you say the same thing to the person this afternoon?"
"I..." Claire stared steadily at him, "Of course not."
After speaking, she avoided his gaze, attempting to clarify, "Anyway, I do like the flowers."
Do you like the flowers, or do you like him?
Unclear.
Keane withdrew his gaze, looking at the traffic lights outside, smiling faintly, "Then I’ll try to be a bit more generous in the future."
With one sentence, the tension in Claire’s heart instantly dissipated.
She raised her head to look into the distance, her mouth involuntarily curving into a shallow arc, like sugar slowly melting.
At the same time, Keane released the handbrake, his prominently veined hand resting back on the steering wheel, turning left and driving steadily onto the road.
Actually, that afternoon the card’s content was blank, with nothing written on it, he didn’t know who sent her that bouquet of roses.
Clearly, there is someone who admires her.
Or perhaps not just one person.
...
Upon returning home, the living room light was left on as usual, her grandparents already asleep, and the caged bird was still hopping around.
All was silent, Claire lightened her movements and went upstairs to her bedroom.
The first thing she did was find a vase, carefully arranging the hibiscus flowers, placing them on her desk.
After handling them, she took a photo to send to Keane, proving she hadn’t let down his intentions.
L: [That’s good]
Claire smiled gently, her gaze inadvertently falling on the metal button on the table.
She picked up the button, turned and lay on the bed, holding it high, looking at its gloss and embossing against the light source.
First sending flowers, then booking the venue, helping her clean her mouth, and finally holding her hand. Linking these actions together, he can’t possibly see her only as a sister.
As she thought, she couldn’t help but recall that night’s details.
Where on earth did this button come from?
After a while, inspiration suddenly struck, her cheeks blushing, slowly squeezing the button in her hand.
It couldn’t possibly be the button from his pants...
The sudden ringing of the phone interrupted her musings.
It was Zara Leighton’s call.
She swiped to answer, setting the phone to speaker.
"Zara, what’s up?"
The voice on the other end said, "Do you have time tomorrow to accompany me to an engagement banquet?"
Claire asked, "Who’s getting engaged?"
"Milton Rivers."
Upon hearing this name, Claire abruptly sat upright from her bed, her brows immediately furrowing.
Milton Rivers?
Zara has been with him since junior year, due to her profession, they maintained a secret relationship. She wasn’t clear about the details of their affair and never met Milton Rivers.
The most memorable thing was Zara once telling her how good Milton Rivers was to her, making it hard for her to refuse.
Their relationship seemed stable, at least Claire hadn’t heard Zara mention any unhappiness or disputes between them.
How is it so sudden, Milton Rivers is getting engaged to someone else?
"Zara, what’s going on?"
Zara took a deep breath, her tone steady, "Without Milton Rivers, there wouldn’t be me now. Since he’s getting engaged, I will genuinely wish him well. He simply chose the latter between me and interests, I understand and respect him, it also liberates me to focus on my career."
Claire heard this, feeling a bit baffled, "Did he cheat?"
"No, it’s an alliance marriage."
"Since you two already broke up, why not just let him be? Why attend his engagement banquet?"
The other end turned silent.
Actually, she and Milton Rivers didn’t even break up, they simply terminated their relationship.
Though she initiated it, the withdrawal symptoms still lingered, incapable of being as decisive as Milton Rivers.
She avoided the topic, coaxing, "Come on, will you accompany me tomorrow?"
...