Chapter 18 $200,000 for a Night
Henry woke up just as the sky was starting to lighten. He was sweating, holding something hot in his arms, making his bathrobe damp. Opening his eyes, he saw Grace's face, unusually flushed. He reached out to touch her and found she was burning up!
Henry quickly got out of bed and headed downstairs. "Get Miles. Tell him to come over right away," he told the servant.
"Is Mr. Montague not feeling well?" the servant asked.
Henry paused on the stairs. "Just say Mrs. Montague has a fever and needs him here ASAP."
Half an hour later, Miles Davis arrived. The servants had already cleaned up the bedroom, leaving no trace of any intimacy. Miles examined Grace and said, "The fever's pretty bad. She needs a fever-reducing shot. Also, Mrs. Montague is a bit weak; she needs to watch her nutrition."
Miles paused, but Henry knew Grace was exhausted and often skipped meals. She used to be so delicate.
Miles gave Grace the shot and advised before leaving, "She should stay in bed and rest for a day."
Henry nodded and asked the servant to see Miles out. A few moments later, footsteps echoed in the stairwell again. Henry thought it was the servant returning and said, "Cook some oatmeal and bring it up once it cools."
But it was Celeste at the door, holding a few sets of suits and shirts she had taken for dry cleaning last week and brought over early this morning. She was surprised to see Grace in bed, wondering how Grace had come back. And it was clear Henry had slept in the same bed with Grace last night. Even though the bedroom was tidied up, there was a faint hickey on the back of Grace's neck. That spot could only be reached in a special position.
Seeing it was Celeste and noticing the clothes in her hands, Henry frowned slightly. "Put the things on the sofa and go downstairs! You don't need to do these things anymore!"
Celeste lowered her eyes, feeling embarrassed at being exposed.
She liked handling these personal matters for Henry, as if she were his wife, but it seemed Henry had seen through her intentions. What was Celeste thinking as she left? She pondered why she harbored hostility towards Grace yet remained indifferent, even tolerant, towards Elodie. Maybe deep down, she knew that if Henry had feelings for anyone, it would only be Grace. After all, men usually went for the most beautiful, and Henry was no exception.
After Celeste left, Henry looked at Grace in bed. She was still in a deep sleep. Standing by the bed, he lightly pinched her cheek. When she didn't respond, he increased the pressure until she shifted uncomfortably. Feeling a slight sense of relief, he soon found his mind drifting to other matters.
Henry walked to the living room outside, looking at the few sets of clothes. They were cleaned well, but he still didn't like the smell of the solvent on them. Besides that, he didn't like others touching his personal belongings. He was a very possessive person. Just like with matters of intimacy, while other men might be keen on chasing one woman after another, Henry never had such thoughts. When men make love, their expressions aren't very pleasant when they're passionate. Someone like Henry would never want others to see that, so he had never been involved with other women over the years. The only one who had seen him in his passionate moments was Grace.
Celeste sat on the sofa in the first-floor hall, and the servant brought her a cup of coffee. She sat drinking coffee, her posture elegant and dignified, like a hostess. It was at this moment that Henry came downstairs. Unlike his usual formal attire, he was dressed very casually today, wearing khaki casual pants and a white knit top. The overly comfortable outfit didn't seem out of place but rather added a touch of maturity.
Celeste's eyes sparkled with undisguised admiration. Back in college, she had chased after Henry, but her feelings were overshadowed by the attention he got from countless socialites.
Henry sat down across from her. Celeste smiled slightly and said in a professional tone, "Since Mrs. Montague is back, she'll handle these matters from now on. Mr. Montague, do I still need to report and register Mrs. Montague's living expenses and jewelry with you?"
Henry found her words repugnant. Grace always brought up such matters when she talked about divorce. Seeing he didn't respond, Celeste took the initiative. "Don't worry, Mr. Montague, I'll take care of everything."
Henry gazed at her in silence. He was a discerning man and could tell which women admired him and had thoughts about him. Previously, he had been indifferent to such matters as they had no impact on his life. But clearly, Celeste had crossed the line.
Henry considered for half a minute and then said calmly, "Next month, you'll go manage the branch in Canada for me. Your position and salary will remain the same."
Celeste was taken aback. After a moment of surprise, she managed a forced smile and said, "Mr. Montague, I actually have a boyfriend!"
Henry said nothing.
Celeste gritted her teeth. "Next month, Mr. Montague, you'll receive my wedding invitation!"
This time, Henry lazily got up, saying, "Then I'll wait for your good news."
Celeste was trembling all over. She knew in her heart that Henry had seen through her intentions and would not allow her to like him. She couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Montague, is it because of Grace?"
Henry's stride faltered momentarily. After a pause, he spoke sternly, "No! It's because you've crossed a boundary." He needed a capable secretary, not a mistress. This was something Celeste seemed to have never understood.
Grace slept for most of the day and woke up in the evening. The bedroom lights were off, with only a faint glow.
She sat up, still feeling a bit weak. Looking down at the moon-white silk pajamas she was wearing, she guessed Henry had helped her change. The next second, memories of her drunken state flooded back.
While in the car, he had caressed her body tenderly. Henry then carried her upstairs, his eagerness palpable as he swiftly removed her stockings before they even reached the bedroom, prompting her to wrap her slender legs around his waist. Recalling the discomfort of Henry's belt buckle from past encounters, she had instinctively moved to undo it.
Grace raised her hand to cover her face. She didn't want to recall it, nor did she want to face it.
At the bedroom door, Henry stood quietly watching her. He had a two-hour video conference in the afternoon, so he had changed into formal attire, a white shirt, and black trousers, looking sharp and meticulous. After the meeting, he found Grace awake and in a daze.
Guessing what she was thinking, Henry said indifferently, "Nothing happened! Drunk as you were, what do you think could have happened?"
Grace, being a woman, knew from her body's sensations that Henry wasn't lying.
As they remained silent, the servant brought oatmeal upstairs. The servant, being perceptive, sensed the tension and smiled. "Mr. Montague was very worried about Mrs. Montague being sick! This morning, he specifically instructed us to prepare something nourishing for Mrs. Montague. Mrs. Montague, wash up and drink it while it's hot; it will make you feel better."
Grace couldn't save face in front of the servant. Henry also understood her thoughts and took the tray from the servant. "You can go now!" The servant quickly left.
Henry closed the door, turned around, and placed the tray on the small round table in the bedroom. Then he looked at Grace, asking, "Still not getting up? Waiting for me to feed you?" His tone was unpleasant, still holding a grudge over her drunken words from last night.
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