Chapter 422 Childish Gregory
As they were talking, there was an abrupt knock on the door, and Henry called out, "Come in."
Several uniformed staff stepped in, carrying platters.
The last one held a newly uncorked bottle of red wine and set it down between Quinn and Henry. "Please enjoy."
Henry coaxed Tricia to eat more.
Quinn sat composed, his gold-rimmed glasses reflecting a chilly light under the chandelier. The young woman pouring his wine met his frosty stare, panicked, and spilled some. The wine trickled along the table's edge, soaking into Quinn's trousers at the most awkward spot.
Before he could react, she hastily pulled out a napkin to dab it.
As she dabbed, she repeatedly apologized, "I'm so sorry, sir. I truly didn't mean it. Please excuse me."
Quinn glanced down and saw her hands gripping the napkin, wiping his crotch.
His expression immediately darkened. If not for his ingrained etiquette, he might have ordered her out on the spot.
Noticing that the woman hadn't realized the gravity of the situation, Quinn's temple throbbed, and he barked sternly, "Enough."
He grasped the woman's hand, shook it off with disdain, and with a sharp tone, commanded, "Leave."
The woman, still clutching the damp napkin, suddenly realized her mistake, her face flushing crimson.
She bowed deeply to Quinn, apologizing, "I'm so sorry, truly. I didn't mean it. How much does the suit cost? I'll cover it, alright?"
Seeing Quinn's icy silence, the woman became increasingly frantic.
At this point, Abigail couldn't take it anymore and interjected, "You should leave for now. You don't need to pay for the suit. Just be more careful in the future."
Hearing this, the woman seemed to grasp onto hope and gratefully exclaimed, "Thank you, thank you."
Once the woman had gone, Quinn stared down at his wet trousers, his face grim, lost in contemplation.
Henry struggled to hold back, but finally burst into laughter. "Quinn, I never imagined seeing you like this, hahaha!"
Hearing his uninhibited laughter, Quinn's eyebrow twitched violently, and he shot a withering glare. "Do you have a death wish?"
Facing Quinn's deadly stare, Henry stifled his laughter, though his quaking shoulders betrayed him. Ignoring him, Quinn called his assistant for a fresh set of clothes. For someone as meticulous as Quinn, the wet stain was unbearable, and its location too embarrassing to endure.
Abigail and Gregory exchanged a glance and couldn't help but chuckle.
Leaning close to Gregory's ear, Abigail whispered, "It's the first time I've seen Quinn so flustered in front of someone other than you. It's hilarious."
Gregory lightly tapped Abigail's forehead with his finger, his eyes brimming with affection. "Aren't you worried Quinn will be upset at you for laughing so openly?"
Abigail smirked confidently. "He won't be mad at me."
Quinn was an exceptional brother, and their bond ran deeper than with Caius. Despite being half-siblings, his care for her was unwavering. Though she spoke softly, Quinn, seated nearby, heard everything, a faint warmth flickering in his usually stoic eyes. Soon, his assistant arrived with a sleek shopping bag.
Quinn removed his blazer, using it to discreetly cover the stain on his pants, and stood to head toward the restroom. "You all continue eating. Don't wait for me."
When Quinn returned, it was ten minutes later.
Abigail looked up at him and suddenly said, "Quinn, can I ask you for a favor?"
Quinn tilted his head, his gaze softening. "What is it?"
Abigail said, "Be my model for a day, and I'll design an outfit for you, something uniquely tailored."
Since becoming the CEO of DM Group, her reputation had skyrocketed, and it was nearly impossible for ordinary individuals to wear her creations.
Previously, she had designed for Darwin, and after their grandfather passed, Caius dressed Darwin in that very outfit.
Caius said, "Though he didn't wear it long, your grandfather admired it. It's a token of your love as his granddaughter. I think he wouldn't feel lonely in heaven wearing it."
At that moment, Abigail grasped the essence of being a designer: designs, like words, conveyed emotions, and sincerity was what truly mattered.
Hearing this, a subtle ripple of emotion surfaced in Quinn's typically calm eyes. "You really want to design for me?"
Abigail nodded resolutely, but Gregory's feigned innocence, marked by his soft, persistent coughs, soon drew her attention, becoming impossible to overlook.
She turned to Gregory, her laughter bubbling. "Why are you acting so childish? Do you think I forgot about your clothes?"
Gregory's eyes lit up. "Do I get one too?"
"Of course, what did you think?" Abigail raised her chin proudly. "I've nearly finished designing yours. I'll show it to you when it's ready."
Gregory's lips curled into a triumphant smile, and he looked at Quinn smugly. "Hear that? Mine's almost done."
It was clear who Abigail prioritized.
Quinn rubbed his temples in exasperation, muttering, "Childish."
Gregory, called "childish," didn't mind one bit. If anything, he thought Quinn was envious.
Henry looked between Quinn and Gregory, disgruntled. "You both get one. What about me? And Tricia?"
Abigail rested her chin on her palm, ignoring his question and instead asking, "First, tell me when you plan to marry Tricia?"
"What?" Henry was caught off guard, stunned.
Abigail puffed out her cheeks slightly, her narrowed eyes gleaming with a hint of danger. "So, you're not planning to marry her? Tricia is over four months pregnant. Once she starts showing, designing a wedding dress will be a challenge."
Henry awkwardly scratched his neck and explained, "That's not what I meant. Your question just surprised me. I'm ready to marry her whenever she wants."
Abigail squinted at him, dissatisfied. "Shouldn't you take the initiative? Are you waiting for Tricia to ask? If she says nothing, are you planning to avoid it forever?"
"No, of course not!" Seeing Abigail's serious expression, Henry hurriedly clarified, "I just want to wait until Tricia feels prepared. After all, we've only been together for a short time."
Abigail huffed. "Fine, it's your call. But if you let Tricia suffer, I won't forgive you!"
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