Leon Sterling looked at her, his brow furrowed.
‘This woman is ridiculously persistent.’
He walked past Jill Kensington toward his electric scooter, but she quickly followed and blocked his path.
“Are you heading back?”
“How about I treat you to a meal?
You seem to be in a bad mood today.” Jill Kensington was dressed in a particularly cheerful outfit: black denim overalls with an orange short-sleeved shirt underneath.
Her long hair was tied into pigtails that bounced as she skipped about.
She looked like a little ray of sunshine.
But Leon Sterling walked on ahead, completely ignoring Jill.
‘His mind was already on the delicious meal he was going to make for Hazel Sinclair.
He could braise the shrimp, stir-fry some pork with potatoes, reheat the hand-shredded chicken, and then blanch some greens.’
‘That would be perfect.’
‘Good thing he was a decent cook; at least he could make something Hazel would like.’
When Jill saw him get on his scooter without giving her a second glance, she stood there, puffing out her cheeks in a huff.
“Hey—why are you ignoring me?” Seeing that he was about to drive off, Jill hurriedly reached out and grabbed his arm, shouting.
The moment she touched him, Leon Sterling yanked his arm away.
His eyes were filled with wariness and disgust.
But Jill didn’t seem to care.
Instead, she saw her chance and grabbed his hand again to keep him from leaving.
“Who are you?
Why do you keep following me?” Leon Sterling was beyond annoyed.
He was in a hurry to get home and cook for his wife.
“I’m your savior from this afternoon!” Jill blinked, then quickly replied.
‘Savior?’
Leon Sterling scoffed, looking at her coldly as he demanded, “I didn’t fall in the water, nor did I pass out on the riverbank.
What kind of savior are you?”
“If anything, I should be calling you out for being nosy.
I was crouching by the river, not lying in it.”
He pulled his hand back, twisted the throttle, and sped off.
Watching Leon Sterling’s retreating back, Jill stomped her foot in frustration.
In their past life, this man hadn’t been so cold.
The Leon Sterling of her past life had been refined and gentle, always wearing a faint smile.
He smiled at everyone and spoke with exceptional kindness.
Leon Sterling returned to their rental apartment.
When he opened the door, he saw Hazel Sinclair fast asleep on the sofa.
The living room light was on, and the floor was piled with shopping bags, likely from a trip to the mall earlier that day.
Her laptop was open on the coffee table, a short song of about ten seconds looping over and over in the living room.
Leon Sterling’s movements softened as he entered.
He placed the ingredients in the kitchen and took off his delivery vest.
He picked up the paper bags from the floor one by one and hung them on the standing coat rack.
Most of the clothes on the rack belonged to Hazel Sinclair.
The small wardrobe in the bedroom was also full of her clothes.
Leon Sterling’s clothes, on the other hand, took up only a tiny corner.
A fan whirred in the apartment, but even with the windows open, Hazel Sinclair still felt hot.
She was sweating profusely, her back soaked through.
Woken up by the heat, Hazel Sinclair sat up, rubbing her drowsy eyes.
“You’re awake,” Leon Sterling’s voice sounded.
Hazel Sinclair’s gaze shifted to the open-plan kitchen, where Leon Sterling stood in an apron, washing ingredients.
“Mhm.”
“You’re back pretty early today.”
Hazel Sinclair picked up a bottle of mineral water from the coffee table, opened it, and took a sip.
He had put away all the things she had left scattered about, and the once-messy apartment was now neat and tidy.
An hour later, the two of them were sitting at the dining table.
As Hazel Sinclair ate, Leon Sterling wore disposable gloves and peeled shrimp for her.
“Leon Sterling, what do you think about us setting up a street stall?” Hazel Sinclair asked, holding her bowl and looking at him with a cheerful smile.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Leon Sterling placed the peeled shrimp in her bowl.
“It’s exhausting work.
You’ve been pampered your whole life; you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
Hazel Sinclair ate the shrimp and retorted, “Not me.
Us.”
“I heard running a stall is very profitable.
We desperately need money right now, and this seems like the fastest way.”
“You’re a great cook.
We should sell boxed meals.” Hazel Sinclair had spent all afternoon researching, and selling food from a stall was the best idea she’d come up with.
And cooking was Leon Sterling’s greatest skill.
Hearing her suggestion, Leon Sterling didn’t respond, merely watching her with his dark eyes.
His stare made her uneasy, and Hazel Sinclair blustered, “So, do you agree or not?
Delivering food every day is not a long-term solution!”
“If you really don’t plan on getting your act together, then let’s just get a divorce!
I’ll have Evelyn Kendrick take care of me,” Hazel Sinclair yelled.
But Leon Sterling didn’t answer.
He just placed the rest of the peeled shrimp in front of her, took off his disposable gloves, and wiped his hands with a napkin.
Only after he had done all this did Leon Sterling finally ask, “Why do you want to set up a stall?”
“To make money, obviously.”
‘What other reason could there be?
Because it’s fun?
Because it’s exhausting?’
“I understand.
I’ll research the market tonight and see if it’s feasible,” Leon Sterling said slowly, picking up his chopsticks and lowering his head.
“Okay.” Hazel Sinclair knew that when he spoke like this, he was already formulating a plan.
Once Leon Sterling decided to do something, he always did his homework, and setting up a stall would be no exception.
She picked up her phone from the side, found Leon Sterling on her contact list, and transferred 50,000 dollars to him.
DING DONG—
Leon Sterling glanced at his phone.
It was a transfer notification.
He opened it and froze, staring at the four zeros on the screen.
“Why are you giving me money?”
“And where did you get this money?”
Leon Sterling didn’t accept the transfer.
Instead, he looked at her, his brows knitted together tightly.
Where could she have gotten this money?
“This 50,000 dollars is your startup capital.
You have to pay it back after you succeed,” Hazel Sinclair said, putting down her phone with a very serious expression.
For a natural-born miser like her, parting with fifty thousand dollars was incredibly painful.
“You have to work hard and make money to support me!”
Hazel Sinclair looked at him, saying this with complete and utter confidence.
Leon Sterling nodded.
“I will.”
Ever since he went bankrupt, Hazel Sinclair had been constantly encouraging him to regain his confidence.
He absolutely could not let Hazel down.
With the plan to set up a stall, Leon Sterling was out early and back late for the next few days.
He stopped cooking, instead bringing back takeout for Hazel Sinclair to eat.
Meanwhile, Hazel Sinclair wasn’t idle either.
She updated her dancing videos every day.
Because she was a good dancer and also naturally gorgeous,
her follower count shot up, breaking one thousand in just three days.
After hitting a thousand followers, Hazel Sinclair quickly set up an e-commerce showcase on her profile.
Every little bit of money counted.
Hazel Sinclair was thrilled.
‘Being beautiful really gets you special treatment.’
She was scrolling through her few comments when two particularly nasty ones caught her eye.
[If you’re broke, just crawl back home.
What’s the point of all this singing and dancing online?]
[Such a total embarrassment.]