Chapter 223 Like a Lingering Dark Fragrance
"Selena, chill. I won't pull that stunt again. Totally not worth it."
Selena nodded, then asked, "Do you know anyone at the company that sells hardwood floors?"
Brian's job was decent, though the pay wasn't great. He knew a lot of people.
"I'll ask around for you. If I find anything, I'll text you."
Selena finally felt at ease and headed back to the hotel.
She planned to take a shower and crash.
But after her shower, she spotted a huge black bug on the bed and freaked out. She ended up sleeping in a chair, waking up with a stiff neck.
The next morning, Brian texted her saying Han was heading there tonight.
[Talked to Han. He'll give you a ride.]
Selena had some porridge and a corn cob, then waited outside the hotel.
First, a Volkswagen sedan pulled up, worth less than $30,000.
Right behind it was a Rolls-Royce, which Selena instantly recognized as Raymond's car.
She thought, 'No way?'
Before she could finish her thought, Han came down and led Selena straight to the Rolls-Royce.
Her last painting had really impressed Raymond, and she had ridden in his car before.
The window rolled down, revealing Raymond's face.
Even here, his lap was covered with a pile of documents.
He wore an expensive Patek Philippe on his wrist, his nails were neatly trimmed, and his hand was long and slender, with visible veins on the back.
This hand was as attractive as his face.
"Mr. Montague, this is the young lady who did the painting last time. We're going for an on-site inspection later, and the place she needs to go is nearby. Our car is full of guys, and some of them smoke. We don't want her to get smoked out, so could she ride with you?"
Han spoke earnestly, with a sincere smile on his honest face.
Selena keenly noticed Raymond's fingers tighten slightly on the documents, probably because his train of thought was interrupted.
She was about to say it wasn't necessary when she heard his clear voice. "Get in."
Selena had no choice but to get in.
Once the door closed, she pretended to look out the window, admiring the scenery.
But out of the corner of her eye, she saw the orange on the rack beside her, the one she had given him last night. It looked out of place among the pile of documents.
This boss had a villa in the mountains. Because he had stable clients and low material desires, he chose to live in a remote, underdeveloped area.
He had a large villa in the mountains and another in the city, switching between the two.
This was information Selena got from her uncle. She really didn't know how to impress this kind of boss.
The car jolted, and Selena saw the orange about to roll off the rack. She quickly reached out to catch it.
But Raymond also reached out at the same time, and their fingertips touched.
One was cold, the other warm.
Selena looked up at him in surprise, and Raymond frowned slightly, probably not expecting this accident either.
Selena quickly withdrew her hand and changed the subject to break the current atmosphere. "How's the injury on your back?"
Because she withdrew her hand, the orange fell to the floor.
Raymond bent down to pick it up, but Selena, thinking of his back injury and how this movement might strain it, quickly placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Let me get it."
The orange had fallen closer to Raymond. But Selena remembered his injury, so she leaned over to pick it up.
As she squatted and reached out, her nose inevitably brushed against the fabric of Raymond's pants.
The moist breath penetrated the fabric, instantly reaching his skin.
But Selena didn't notice, focusing on reaching the orange. After a couple of tries, she finally got it and breathed a sigh of relief.
She picked it up and placed it in front of Raymond.
Raymond didn't look at the orange, only feeling his heart beat irregularly. He frowned, trying to ignore the sensation.
"Just leave it," he said.
Selena thought he didn't like it but was too well-mannered to throw it away since it was a gift, so he kept it there.
She put the orange back in its place and sat back down.
A subtle atmosphere spread in the silence, like a lingering fragrance.
Raymond looked down at his documents, his peripheral vision lingering on the side of his leg, where it still felt warm, as if the heat was still there.
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