Chapter 388 Mr. White Cooks
Joe's heart leaped with joy, and he was almost moved to tears. "Thank you so much. I never expected you to value our company so highly."
Abigail shook her head with a smile. "Actually, I'm not that interested in your company, but I am quite interested in you."
As soon as she finished speaking, Joe felt Gregory's piercing gaze. Those sharp eyes made Joe tremble and break into a cold sweat.
"Ms. Martin, you shouldn't say things like that!"
Abigail glanced at the jealous Gregory, smiled helplessly, and hooked her pinky around his playfully. "Don't misunderstand, that's not what I meant."
Gregory glared at the fashion company head, seething over Abigail's investment in Joe. Just as he was about to act, a gentle tug on his finger held him back.
He looked down and met Abigail's clear eyes.
His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and Gregory asked in a low voice, "Really?"
Abigail replied, "Of course it's true! Let me finish. I really admire Mr. Wilson. Although you've run the company into the ground, you are genuinely dedicated to your employees and possess a determination that many young people lack."
This fashion show was the best proof of that.
Joe silently rubbed his forehead, unsure whether she was praising or insulting him.
But no matter what, Abigail's willingness to invest was a huge boon for him.
He wouldn't just say a few nice words; he'd treat her like a queen if it meant securing the investment.
After finalizing the investment, Joe personally escorted Abigail and Gregory out.
On the way home, Gregory asked her, "Why did you suddenly decide to invest?"
Abigail chuckled. "It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I really admire Joe's designers."
Initially, she had thought about poaching them directly.
But on second thought, that seemed a bit unscrupulous.
Abigail lifted her chin proudly and said, "Just wait. Within a year, this investment will definitely pay off."
She was confident in her judgment—except for Roman, she was never wrong.
Gregory also smiled. "Yes, I believe in Abigail's abilities."
"That's more like it."
Back at Maple Residence, as soon as Abigail and Gregory walked in, they heard a strange voice.
"Back so soon? I thought you'd be out all day!"
Abigail raised an eyebrow and looked at Mireille, who was watching TV on the couch. "Yeah, we're not like you, sleeping until noon. By the time you wake up, everything's over."
"You!" Mireille glared at Abigail, fuming with anger.
She had just made a casual comment. Was it worth getting so mad over?
So petty!
"So, where did you go today?" They left her bored at home.
Aramore wasn't like Aerilon; Mireille had no friends here. Back home, she would go out with friends when bored. Now, she had nowhere to go.
Abigail lazily lifted her eyelids and said two words, "A date."
Mireille angrily turned off the TV and stormed upstairs.
Watching her leave, Abigail couldn't help but laugh softly.
She wondered how Linnea had spoiled Mireille to develop such a temper.
"When is she leaving?" Gregory asked bluntly.
Abigail propped her chin and thought for a moment before saying, "I don't know. Quinn is still busy."
Gregory frowned and texted Quinn: [Hurry up and take your sister away.]
About five minutes later, Quinn replied: [Sorry, I've been really busy lately. I have a lot of patients to see. It'll probably be next week.]
Quinn: [Did Mireille cause trouble?]
Gregory: [Not really.]
Quinn sighed in relief, thinking Mireille had upset Gregory again.
But before he could fully relax, Gregory sent another message: [She's interrupting our alone time.]
Quinn stared at the message for a long time, his lips twitching.
Gregory hadn't changed a bit; anyone who interrupted his time with Abigail was promptly excluded.
He wondered if Gregory would still be like this after Abigail's baby was born.
Thinking about it, Quinn couldn't help but feel a bit schadenfreude.
Gregory had no idea what Quinn was thinking. He just felt a chill down his spine. When he turned around, there was nothing there.
He shook his head, thinking it was just stress, and didn't give it another thought as he led Abigail upstairs.
The next morning, Abigail woke up to find the bed beside her empty.
She instinctively reached out and felt that it was almost cold, indicating Gregory had been up for a while.
She stretched lazily, slowly sat up, put on her slippers, and went downstairs to find Gregory.
The villa was eerily quiet. At this time, the household staff would usually be working.
But today, no one was around—not even the usually diligent butler.
Abigail frowned slightly and quickened her pace downstairs.
After searching around, she finally found Gregory in the dining room.
That tall, strong figure was busy in the kitchen, wearing casual home clothes that softened his usual imposing aura.
His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing well-defined forearms that exuded a certain sexiness.
Abigail quietly approached and stood at the dining room door, watching him work.
The man moved efficiently in the kitchen, every step smooth and practiced, as if he were handling a multi-billion-dollar negotiation.
Abigail smiled and took a picture, catching Gregory's attention. He turned, his chiseled face softened by a faint smile.
"You're awake?"
"Yeah, what made you decide to cook?" Abigail put away her phone, showing no embarrassment at being caught, and walked in.
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