Chapter 646 Want to Eat Candy
Seeing Winona suddenly stop moving, Michael asked, puzzled, "Hey, what's up?"
She didn't answer right away but leaned in slightly, discreetly sniffing the air. All she could smell was a classic cologne.
Winona rubbed her nose, thinking she must have been mistaken. She couldn't recall where she had smelled that scent before, so she didn't dwell on it.
She took the cup and made up an excuse, "It's nothing, maybe I skipped breakfast this morning, and my blood sugar's a bit low. Felt a little dizzy just now."
As she spoke, she reached into the drawer for a piece of candy, unwrapped it, and was about to put it in her mouth when she noticed Michael staring at her, or more precisely, at the candy in her hand.
She didn't want to pay attention to him, but his longing look was too much to ignore. "You want some candy?"
She thought she must have misunderstood. Generally, men don't like sweets, and even if they do, they wouldn't be like a child, eyeing someone else's candy.
"Yeah," Michael nodded eagerly.
The candy was given to her by a colleague, and there was only one piece. Winona looked at Michael, then at the candy near her lips.
Without hesitation, she popped it into her mouth under his longing gaze. "I'll give you half an hour off to go buy some."
Given his status, he was probably at the museum to pad his resume. Winona didn't plan to actually make him do anything, so she granted the leave readily, even hoping he wouldn't hover around her while she worked. She wasn't used to having someone stand by her side while she worked.
Michael watched Winona's cheek puff out slightly, finding it amusing. He chuckled meaningfully and turned to go buy candy.
Twenty minutes later, he returned with breakfast for Winona. "I didn't know what you liked, so I just grabbed something."
"No need, thanks. You keep it for yourself. I don't usually have breakfast."
She was lying. She just didn't want to owe a favor to someone she didn't know well. Zachary wouldn't let her leave the house without breakfast.
Michael insisted, "I already had breakfast. I brought this just for you. Eat a little; it's bad for your stomach to be empty."
Afraid Winona would continue to refuse, he left immediately after saying that.
Winona didn't touch the breakfast, and it was eventually eaten by someone else.
After a busy day, nearing the end of her shift, Winona received a message from Zachary with a location: [Come here for dinner tonight. It's a new restaurant, and the food is pretty good.]
Zachary was already at the restaurant when he sent the message, but he hadn't ordered yet.
It was a comprehensive restaurant offering drinks, afternoon tea, and meals. He had just finished a business meeting there and, seeing it was almost time for Winona to finish work, decided to invite her for dinner.
The restaurant wasn't far from the museum, so they could head back together after eating.
The people from the other company had left, and Zachary was rubbing his forehead to relieve a headache, resting his eyes.
Suddenly, a soft body hugged him. "Hello, sir."
The voice was sweet and childlike, with a hint of tears.
Zachary opened his eyes to see a five or six-year-old girl, looking adorable in simple, even shabby clothes.
"I came to work with Maeve and got lost. Can I borrow your phone to call Maeve?"
Seeing the little girl with red-rimmed eyes, on the verge of tears but holding back, Zachary's thoughts wandered to what his and Winona's future daughter might look like.
His tone softened involuntarily, "Do you know how to dial?"
The little girl nodded earnestly, "Yes, Maeve taught me."
Zachary unlocked his phone and handed it to her.
Watching her clumsily press the numbers, he called over a waiter and ordered a strawberry cake for her.
Zachary's headache persisted, so he didn't watch her dial. When he looked again, the call was already connected. The little girl held the phone to her ear, "Maeve, I'm at a restaurant, borrowing a phone."
"I don't know the name."
Two seconds later, she handed the phone to Zachary, "Sir, Maeve wants to talk to you."
She probably wanted to ask for the address. Zachary took the phone and habitually glanced at the screen, slightly surprised to see: Hospital Nurse.
So Maeve was Maeve Harrington. What a coincidence.
"Ms. Harrington," he relayed the restaurant's name and booth number.
Maeve was stunned to hear Zachary's voice, then snapped out of it, "Mr. Bailey, please look after my sister. I'll be there right away."
Worried about inconveniencing him, she quickly added, "It'll take no more than five minutes, please."
After hanging up, the strawberry cake arrived. The little girl looked at it with bright eyes, licking her lips but didn't ask for it.
She sat with her hands on her knees, very proper.
Zachary said, "Go ahead, it's for you."
The little girl shook her head solemnly, "Thank you, sir, but Maeve said not to eat other people's food."
It was a good habit. Zachary didn't insist and had the waiter pack the cake to give to Maeve later.
Zachary asked, "Why didn't you stay with Maeve?"
The little girl opened her palm, revealing a crumpled five-dollar bill, "I wanted to buy a balloon. The balloon seller left, and I followed him. Then I couldn't find Maeve."
Though she spoke haltingly, Zachary understood. He leaned down, looking into her eyes, "With so many people in the restaurant, why did you choose to ask me for a phone?"
It was too coincidental, making him suspicious.
He wasn't gentle by nature, and his appearance wasn't approachable. His long tenure in a high position, used to giving orders, gave him a strong, intimidating presence, making him seem exceptionally aloof and cold.
Even adults tended to keep their distance from him.
The little girl didn't understand his probing and answered obediently, "Everyone else was talking and didn't have time for me. You were alone."
Her clear, bright eyes made Zachary feel a rare pang of guilt for his suspicion.
How could he use adult cynicism to doubt a pure, innocent child?
"Sir, are you not feeling well?"
Zachary did have a headache but saw no need to tell a child, "No, I'm fine."
"Sir, you're lying. You've been pressing here," she pointed to his forehead, "My dad always says he has a headache when he presses here, then he gets angry and hits me and Maeve with a stick."
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