Chapter 200 You're Yelling at Me!
After Quinn and Henry took off, it was just Abigail and Gregory left in the booth.
Abigail reached out, her fingers hooking around Gregory's pinky, giving it a gentle shake.
"Mr. White, don't be mad," she said.
"You know you ticked me off?" Gregory shot her a sideways glance, snorting. "You gonna pull that stunt again?"
Abigail quickly plastered on a sweet smile and shook her head. "No way!"
She figured she'd deal with the next time when it came, but for now, calming Gregory down was the priority.
Gregory wouldn't always be around whenever something went sideways. She had to learn to handle things on her own, or she'd always be seen as a kid.
But she only dared to think that, not say it out loud.
If Gregory knew what she was thinking, he'd probably blow a gasket.
What she didn't realize was that her thoughts were practically written all over her face, making it easy for him to read her.
Gregory could tell right away she hadn't really taken his words to heart.
He sighed internally, all his frustration turning into helplessness.
He wished Abigail would lean on him a bit more.
Not many girls could, after being verbally humiliated, smash a wine glass and threaten someone with the shards.
When he rushed into the booth and saw Abigail's determined and cold eyes, his heart ached.
Gregory said, "Alright, I'll let it slide this time. Your status is different now, and you might run into this kind of thing more often. How about I get you a bodyguard?"
Gregory's suggestion wasn't just off the cuff.
Ever since they got their marriage certificate, he'd wanted to hire a bodyguard for her. But back then, Abigail had her heart locked up tight, like it was wrapped in a hard shell.
He had to slowly melt that cold shell to get closer to her. Now he finally found the right moment.
Abigail thought for a second and quickly agreed. She did need a personal bodyguard now.
Even if she didn't need one all the time, having a bodyguard could help her keep up appearances and avoid being underestimated in business because of her looks and age.
Once Abigail agreed, Gregory immediately called Leo and told him to personally pick out a female bodyguard.
After hanging up, the waiter came in with the food cart. "Sir, your dishes are ready. Please enjoy."
Abigail immediately noticed the red wine and glasses in the waiter's hands.
She turned to Gregory, a bit embarrassed. "Mr. White, did I interrupt your meal?"
"It's fine. Quinn and Henry probably got a new booth. Don't worry about them." Gregory's face was blank, like he didn't care about Quinn and Henry at all.
Abigail smiled helplessly and picked up her utensils to start eating.
Even though Emerald Isle Manor wasn't as fancy as Maple Leaf Manor Hotel, the food was still pretty good.
Abigail ate with gusto and suddenly remembered something. "Mr. White, why'd you come to Emerald Isle Manor for dinner today? Didn't you always go to Maple Leaf Manor Hotel before?"
She paused, then couldn't help but smile slightly and asked, "Was it because of me?"
"What do you think?" Gregory replied with a grin, then added playfully, "I was worried you might get bullied in their first business negotiation, but it turns out you didn't need my help at all."
Abigail said with a smile, "Who says that? We have a telepathic connection. How do you know I didn't really want to see you at that moment?"
Gregory's heart melted at her words.
Abigail thought of him first when she was upset.
Abigail said she missed him.
A faint smile appeared on Gregory's usually cold and serious face. His lips curved upwards slightly.
Abigail hugged his arm, resting her head gently on his strong arm, and smiled, "Yes, Mr. White holds a very important place in my heart."
The smile on Gregory's lips deepened, and he started serving Abigail more food. "Eat up. After we finish, we'll head home."
"Okay." Abigail accepted Gregory's service naturally, occasionally picking up his favorite dishes and bringing them to his lips.
They both thoroughly enjoyed the meal.
After getting home, Abigail quickly kicked off her high heels, tossed her coat on the floor, and collapsed onto the bed, not wanting to move at all.
Gregory followed her closely, bent down to tidy up her shoes, and neatly placed them in the shoe cabinet at the entrance, next to his shoes.
His shoes were mostly uniform black, while Abigail's were more colorful, including comfy flat leather shoes, white sneakers, and sexy high heels adorned with rhinestones.
Even though their styles were completely different, they strangely didn't look out of place together.
Gregory's lips curved slightly as he picked up the small blazer from the floor and hung it up.
Seeing Abigail lying on the bed, he walked over to the bedside and sat down, smiling, "Tired?"
"Yes." Abigail's eyelids fluttered, trying to open them but failing, and finally giving up. "Mr. White, don't you feel tired handling so much work every day?"
Why did she feel exhausted and sore all over, unable to get up, after just a few days on the job?
"No, I'm used to it, and it's nothing to me," Gregory replied.
Abigail opened her eyes and glanced at him.
She felt that Gregory was praising himself, but she had no evidence.
She hummed twice, turned over, and moved closer to Gregory, asking, "Do you have any suggestions for me? At this rate, I might not be able to hold on!"
Gregory thought for a moment and said, "I do have one. The simplest way is to hire a professional manager to handle things. You only need to be involved in the company's major decisions."
Abigail shook her head and refused, "DM is still in the early stages of recovery. Even if we hire a professional manager, it should be after the company has stabilized."
Seeing her exhausted look, Gregory felt a pang of heartache.
He continued to suggest, "Then hire more secretaries to help you manage things and learn to delegate appropriately."
Abigail thought for a moment and then nodded slightly. "That's a good idea. I'll have the HR department arrange it."
Gregory reached out and placed Abigail's feet on his lap, gently massaging her ankles with his warm fingers.
His palms had a thin layer of calluses, feeling dry and warm, and his movements were gentle, making her feel very comfortable.
Abigail couldn't help but exclaim, jokingly, "Mr. White, if you don't run a company, you could become a masseur."
Gregory focused on relieving Abigail's fatigue, and upon hearing her words, he looked up and said, "Not everyone is qualified to enjoy my services."
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