Chapter 426 Isn't My Figure Good Enough for You?
Quinn's eyes narrowed slightly, his sharp gaze locking on her. "Wath did you say?"
Maeve instantly clamped her mouth shut, offering an awkward grin and waving her hands. "Nothing."
She could only think about how this high-paying position was slipping through her fingers!
Moments later, the water flow from the damaged pipe finally subsided. Both Quinn and Maeve slumped onto the edge of the bathtub, utterly drained.
They were both soaked through, especially Maeve.
The uniform she had changed into that morning now clung wetly to her form, accentuating her graceful curves and sparking the imagination.
Yet, she didn’t notice any of this. Her thoughts were consumed by panic: It's over. I'm fired for sure!
Would begging for leniency work now?
Her expressions shifted so vividly between regret and desperation that Quinn, against his better judgment, glanced at her a couple of times.
After a brief pause, Quinn turned to a servant standing nearby. "Are there any spare clothes? Take her to change."
The servant hesitated, "No, sir. There are only three of us here, including her. Both of us are men, and our clothes wouldn’t be approriate for her."
Maeve quickly waved her hands, "No, no, it's fine. I don’t need them."
As she spoke, her nose tingled, and she sneezed loudly, shivering slightly from the chill.
Quinn gave her a sidelong look before getting up and heading to his room.
Maeve stood frozen, unsure of what to do.
The flooded floor made her toes ache from the cold, and her damp hair clung messily to her cheeks, making her appear utterly disheveled.
Quinn soon returned, carrying a clean towel and a set of clothes. He handed them to her. "They're fresh. Change into these."
"No, no, these are too costly," Maeve stammered, instinctively refusing.
Quinn frowned, his tone frigid. "You caused this mess, so you’re responsible for fixing it. I won’t have anyone accusing me of mistreating staff."
Hearing this, Maeve’s eyes widened. "So, Mr. Worthington is letting me stay and keep my job?"
Quinn shoved the clothes into her arms with a nonchalant air. "Depends on your perfornance," he replied flatly before walking away.
Maeve glanced at the garments in her hands, her cheeks tinged pink. Even though Quinn had assured her they were unworn, she couldn’t help but feel awkward.
Men's clothing? I've never worn these before!
Shaking off the thought, she quickly dried herself with the towel, rolled up her sleeves, and began cleaning up the water.
Meanwhile, Quinn returned to his room to change. Emerging sometime later, he felt a pang of hunger and recalled Gregory’s call from over an hour ago.
After a moment’s hesitation, he dialed back. The call was answered almost immediately. "What’s up?"
Quinn pursed his lips slightly, his voice calmer now. "Have you finished your meal?"
Gregory’s tone was light. "Not yet. Tricia just completed her check-up, and we’re heading to the restaurant."
Quinn sighed, "Send me the restaurant address. I’ll join you soon."
Gregory smirked on the other end. "Changing your mind now? That's rare for you."
Despite his teasing, Gregory forwarded the address.
Grabbing his keys, Quinn drove to the restaurant. By the time he arrived, half the dishes were already on the table.
Seeing his unusually pale expression, Abigail leaned closer. "Quinn, are you alright? You don’t look so good."
Quinn waved her concern off, tousling her soft hair lightly. "I’m fine. The water pipe at home burst. I’ve been dealing with it all day. Just tired."
Henry, never one to miss an opportunity, grinned. "See? I warned you! Your fancy designs are useless when things go wrong. My house setup is way better."
Quinn sneered. "Your house? I can’t stand being there for even five minutes. Your taste is appalling."
As the two men bickered, the others exchanged exasperated looks.
Abigail gently rested a hand on Quinn’s arm, her voice soothing. "Alright, alright. Quinn, something seems to be bothering you. Did anything else happen?"
Quinn sighed heavily. "It’s about that woman again."
The entire table turned to him with curious expressions. "What woman?"
Quinn’s face stiffened, a trace of frustration creeping into his eyes. "Not what you’re imagining. It’s the girl who spilled wine on me last time. By some twist of fate, she’s now working as a cleaner at my house."
"Did she break the pipe?"
"Not exactly. It’s partly my fault too. I was about to shower, half-undressed, and didn’t expect anyone to be inside."
His villa had strict rules. When he was home, no one was allowed near his private quarters, including the bedroom and bathroom.
Maeve had broken that rule, though not intentionally.
Startled by his presence, she had tripped and accidentally broken the pipe.
Thinking about how disheveled he’d been earlier, Quinn couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.
The group burst into laughter, finding it difficult to picture the usually composed Quinn in such a state.
But Abigail’s focus shifted. "Wait. Did she see everything?"
Quinn’s eye twitched. "No—only half."
Across the table, Gregory leaned toward Abigail, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered mischievously, "Darling, shouldn’t my body be enough for you to admire?"
His warm breath tickled her, and Abigail shivered slightly, her blush spreading to her ears.
Gregory’s dark gaze gleamed with amusement. Taking advantage of everyone’s attention being on Quinn, he tilted her chin and kissed her briefly on the lips.
The simple act left Abigail breathless, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. Before she could protest, Gregory leaned in again, murmuring close to her ear, "We’ll continue this later."
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