Chapter 677 Better to Have You Seek Me Out Than Asking Someone Else
Originally, he wanted to keep it a secret from her and quietly help her get some resources.
He was afraid she would refuse if she found out.
Later, Willie reminded him.
He instantly changed his mind.
Grace was just a little touched.
However, Quentin's next words made her uncomfortable.
"If all is a matter of seeking assistance from others, better to have you seek me out than ask someone else."Grace scolded, "Quentin, you bastard!"
Quentin replied, "I can't help it; I can't be pure with you."
A few days later, she finally compromised.
Having seen the fickleness of the world and the warmth and coldness of human relationships.
She was no longer the sentimental girl she used to be.
At least now she could get some resources, not leaving empty-handed.
So, she should be happy.
At least Quentin was right about one thing: instead of begging those hypocrites, seeking him out would be better.
At least Quentin was handsome and well-dressed, which was already a win over them.
In the end, Grace chose two shows.
One as the lead actress, the other as the second lead.
Linda confirmed with her repeatedly. "Except for this show, where you're the second lead, all the others are lead roles. Are you sure you want to choose this second lead?"
Grace signed her name decisively. "I'm sure."
She had just made a comeback, and playing the lead right away would be too ostentatious.
It was better to transition gradually.
After signing all the papers, Linda hesitated but still spoke up, "Grace, I don't want to lie to you. Actually, all these resources are thanks to Mr. Taft."
Grace nodded. "I know."
"Then you..." Linda was a bit worried.
When Quentin and Grace were together before, Linda remembered Grace had a principle: never to take any role or advertisement through Quentin's connections.
At first, Linda thought it was a pity and privately advised her several times.
But Grace just wouldn't agree.
Linda never understood until one time, Grace got drunk.
Only then did she learn the real reason.
"Linda, I'm not that high-minded. Who wouldn't want better development if they could? With Quentin's help, those international brands and some magazines would be easy to get."
"But I'm willing to accept help from anyone except him. Do you know why?"
At that time, she asked Grace, "Why?"
Grace, drunk, answered her, "Because I love him, I like him!"
"I know, he initially approached me because of my good looks. Keeping a lover, that's just a common practice in the entertainment industry, isn't it?"
"But I don't want to define our relationship that way. I love him and want to love him equally."
"I don't want him to think I'm with him for his resources."
"So, Linda, please, don't go to him for these things. I don't want to become like those other women."
Those words, Linda remembered vividly.
But now, she could accept it so calmly and openly.
Seeing Linda's concern, Grace took the initiative to comfort her, "Linda, don't worry, I'm fine, really."
"You used to say you'd never rely on his resources. What about now? Why did you accept it?" Linda was puzzled.
Grace held the hot coffee in her hands, lowering her head to blow on it several times until the temperature felt manageable. Then, she took a few sips.
Finally, she showed a faint smile. "Linda, times have changed."
Back then, Grace loved him; she even fantasized about marrying him and having children with him.
So she didn't want to cling to him; she just wanted to have an equal relationship with him.
But now, since they were already in an unequal relationship, she had to gain something.
"I was too naive before. Now I've figured it out. Since he has these resources, why not use them?"
With this realization, Linda was both happy and worried.
Linda was happy that Grace's career could take off; Linda was worried that Grace's love was doomed.
That day, Grace let Linda leave first.
Grace sat alone in the coffee shop for a long time, losing track of how many cups of coffee she had consumed.
It was only when she turned to look out the window that she noticed it had suddenly started snowing.
At first, it was light, but soon it became heavy snow.
The snowflakes danced wildly, like large cotton balls, pure and beautiful.
With the snow, the weather turned cold.
She curled up in the coffee shop, reading a book, not wanting to go out.
She stayed there until six in the afternoon. When she looked outside again, the ground was covered in white, and the branches were laden with snow. The snowy world was breathtakingly beautiful.
The phone on the table rang, and she glanced at the name before answering.
His voice quickly came through, "Where are you?"
"In a coffee shop. It's snowing heavily, so I might be back late," she replied.
"Send me your location." He said.
"Okay." Grace nodded.
Ten minutes later, she seemed to hear the door being pushed open.
Then came the crisp voice of the waiter, "Welcome."
Grace instinctively looked up in that direction.
With just one glance, she was stunned.
The coffee shop door was wide open, and Quentin, wearing a black coat and leather boots, walked in, tall and straight, braving the cold wind and falling snow.
Every step he took was so firm.
The hazy light enveloped him, making his figure even more handsome and upright.
White snowflakes fell on his hair, shoulders, and clothes.
Grace held her cup, and she seemed to hear the strong beating of her heart.
At that moment, she almost thought he was the prince from her dreams.
This scene had appeared in her dreams countless times.
Everything in front of her suddenly overlapped with her memories.
That day was also a snowy day.
The snow was flying everywhere, so heavy, and the ground was thick with snow.
The difference was, she was in the most miserable state back then.
She lay on the ground, barely alive, covered in blood, on the brink of death.
She almost watched her life slip away.
No one was willing to stop, and no one was willing to save her. They were even afraid she would dirty their cars.
But that day, that night, he was the only one who got out of the car.
He held her in his arms, saying he would take her to the hospital and told her not to worry.
That was the most unbearable yet warmest scene in her childhood memory.
When she came back to her senses, Quentin had already taken her hand. "What are you thinking about? So lost in thought? Come on, let's go home."
Grace suddenly held his hand, looked up at him, and asked, "Quentin, do you remember the first time you saw me?"
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