Chapter 499 You Work to Pay Back the Money
Quinn took care of his three pressing issues and returned to the hospital room. He saw Arabella leaning against the headboard and chuckled from the doorway, "You're bouncing back quick. Guess country folks are tougher. Impressive."
Arabella thought about what the nurse had said earlier. Quinn suddenly becoming a gentleman? No way! She'd never believe it.
She forced a smile, looking at Quinn with a hint of sarcasm, "Mr. Kingsley, thank you!" She practically spat out the words, barely restraining herself from biting him.
Quinn shrugged, grinning, "Arabella, you're a woman after all. Can't you learn a thing or two from Brooklyn? She's a goddess. Look at you... The difference is huge!"
Arabella clicked her tongue. "Done with your nonsense? If so, do me a favor."
Quinn rubbed his temples, yawning. He was exhausted after a long night. "What is it? Hurry up."
Arabella said, "The doctor said I'm fine and can leave. Pay my medical bill, and I'll repay you later."
She remembered bringing her wallet when she left, but it turned out she had left it in the car. Damn, now she only had her phone and keys in her small bag.
Quinn's sympathy for the poor surged, and he laughed arrogantly, "Of course, I said I'd support you..."
Arabella gritted her teeth, "No need. I'll pay you back every cent."
"No, no! I've changed my mind. Someone like you wouldn't accept charity easily. So, I'll give you a chance to repay me through work. You can pay off your medical bill and meal expenses by working for me."
Arabella clenched her fists. "Seriously, Mr. Kingsley, you're really going to charge me like this?"
Quinn's grin grew wider. "Pride is priceless. Don't you want it? Don't worry, considering your intelligence and stamina, I won't ask you to do anything beyond your capacity. Working for me is simple. Be at my beck and call. Dinner with me, a hundred bucks. Attending an event, five hundred. Big events, a thousand. Oh, and driving me somewhere, fifty bucks. I'll provide food for free during meals. How's that? Serving a handsome guy like me isn't a bad deal."
Arabella wanted to curse silently, fuck!
But she had no better option at the moment. It was too late to notify her family. Besides, dealing with this rich, clueless guy might be fun.
"Fine!"
Quinn nodded, "Very sensible. Good, we can leave now."
"Leave?"
"I've paid the bill. What else would we do?"
Arabella raised her head, gritting her teeth, "You're such a weirdo!"
As they walked out of the hospital, Quinn pulled out two hundred-dollar bills from his pocket. After a moment's thought, he added a few more and handed them to Arabella. "You live in a remote area. The cab fare will be high. Take this. You'll pay it back anyway."
Arabella looked at the money in her hand, feeling both amused and exasperated, "Thanks!"
Quinn hailed a cab and let Arabella get in first. "Even though you're not pretty or gentle, as my future worker, you'd better get home safely."
"Damn it!"
Her curse was cut off by the sound of the door slamming shut, and the cab sped away.
Quinn clapped his hands, muttering to himself, "Arabella? Her name's not bad."
Arabella felt like she was dreaming as she got into the cab. Everything that happened tonight was too much.
She checked the time; it was past midnight. She quickly called home, "Dad, I had an emergency surgery tonight. I'm heading home now."
After hanging up, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes to rest.
The cab driver asked, "Miss, you haven't told me where you're going. That gentleman said you live far away. Where to?"
Arabella fiddled with her hair, chuckling, "Ravenwood Estate."
The driver was stunned. "Did you say Ravenwood Estate?"
Arabella laughed, "Yes, just drop me at the gate."
The driver's mouth twitched, "Alright... sure."
People living in Ravenwood Estate were the wealthiest in Aucester. He'd picked up a big shot.
Ophelia's white Mercedes sped along, not giving Zach a chance to protest. It maintained a constant high speed until it turned into an underground garage.
As the car descended, Zach saw the name of the upscale neighborhood and frowned, his calm face showing a hint of displeasure. "Miss Montague, what is this about?"
Ophelia flipped her hair, moving it all to one side, her wavy curls cascading over her shoulder, bright and sexy.
She unbuckled her seatbelt. "Obviously, I'm taking you to my place."
Zach frowned, "Ophelia, we haven't reached that point yet. Thanks for getting me out of the hospital, but it's not appropriate for me to go to your place. I'll take a cab home."
Ophelia got out of the car and opened Zach's door. "Stop pretending, Zach. I'm bringing you to my place with no other intentions. I have no desire for a doctor who's just been through hell. Don't doubt my taste in men, whether for a long-term relationship or a one-night stand. You're not my type, okay?"
Zach listened to her rapid-fire speech, wondering if she was a cop or a talk show host. She always spoke in long, uninterrupted streams.
His expression remained tense, "Ophelia, regardless, men and women are different. I know you might not care about this after returning from Averlake, but I'm very traditional."
Ophelia leaned against the car door. "Zach, are you serious? You talk too much! Don't worry. I'm not interested in you. Look at yourself. Your lab coat is filthy, your eyes are dark and bloodshot, you look like a jilted lover. Even if I hadn't seen a man in years, I wouldn't be interested in you. Hurry up, I need to get home and shower."
Her debating skills were impressive. Zach got out of the car, and they headed to the elevator, which took them straight to the top floor.
Stepping out of the elevator, they entered a luxurious penthouse. Ophelia entered the code and opened the door, turning on the lights.
The bright lights illuminated the room, revealing floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing half the city's nightscape, a sea of lights and stars.
The view from here and Zach's apartment covered almost the entire city.
Ophelia kicked off her heels, "I don't get why some women like wearing high heels. They're exhausting."
She tossed her heels into the shoe rack.
The five-tier shoe rack held only one pair of heels; the rest were casual shoes or slippers.
Zach frowned, getting a sense of what kind of woman Ophelia was.
"Here!"
Ophelia pulled out a pair of disposable hotel slippers. "Sorry, Zach, I don't usually have men over. Make do with these."
"Thanks."
"This is my private apartment. You were way too nervous earlier. Change your shoes, take off that dirty lab coat, and help yourself to anything in the fridge. As for food... sorry, I don't cook. There might be eggs in the fridge. Anything that's not expired is yours..."
As she spoke, Ophelia suddenly remembered something, "Zach, the slap mark on your face looks redder. Sit down."
She spoke so fast, he barely had time to react.
Zach took off his lab coat, revealing a clean white shirt. Without the smell of disinfectant, his cologne's elegant scent emerged.
"Sit down, I'll get a hot towel!"
Ophelia's actions were quick. She pressed Zach onto the sofa, pointing at his nose, "Don't move. Sit tight. I'll get the towel!"
Zach had no choice but to sit back, noticing a photo on the coffee table. It showed Ophelia in a police uniform, laughing heartily, revealing her white teeth.
It was clear she loved her job, smiling so genuinely.
"Here it is!"
Zach quickly put the photo down, watching Ophelia approach with the hot towel. He reached out, "I'll do it myself."
Ophelia's hand was faster, pressing the towel to his face, "Don't be stubborn, Dr. Zach. How does it feel to get slapped by a patient's family?"
Her hand gently pressed the towel to his face, the warmth soothing his skin, easing the pain.
"Families grieving a loss can be very emotional. I understand."
"Come on, Zach. Do you understand their grief, or are you trying to take the blame? If I'm not mistaken, you want to protect Dr. Mitchell, right? Is she your crush?"
Zach's eyes darkened. "No, she's a good friend."
Ophelia massaged his face, "Zach, has anyone ever given you a hot towel treatment? How's my technique?"
Zach thought for a moment, realizing Ophelia was the first woman to help him so intimately, "You're the first. Your technique is good."
Ophelia stepped onto the sofa and continued to ask, "So, Zach, have you ever helped someone else?"
Zach's expression turned thoughtful. Yes, he had.
The woman he'd cared about for years.
"Alright, I'll do it myself. Ophelia, you don't need to help me."
"Why rush? Let me guess, the person you'd personally care for is a woman, right? Could it be Dr. Mitchell?"
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