Chapter 22 Women Shouldn't Be Too Reserved
Sloane's POV
I didn't look back, just pressed the down button for the elevator, my voice cold. "Let go."
"Don't be mad, Jared's just an idiot, completely wrapped around her finger!" Alger explained urgently. "But he definitely has feelings for you!"
The elevator doors opened. I walked in, and he squeezed in after me.
"My dinner isn't over yet." I looked at myself reflected in the mirror—completely pale, eyes hollow, like a puppet with its soul sucked out.
"Forget the damn dinner!" Alger was practically bouncing off the walls, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "Listen, we've all got your back here. Every single one of us is so done with Keira's bullshit! We see you for who you really are!"
Listening to him, I suddenly pulled at the corner of my mouth in a barely audible, almost self-mocking laugh.
I turned to look at him and asked seriously, "Is she... really good at seducing men?"
Alger froze for a moment, then like he'd found an outlet, his face showed both contempt and anger as he began describing it to me in vivid detail.
"You should've seen it! The second we walked in, she yanked her top down—I mean, everything was hanging out—then she basically melted all over Jared like some kind of octopus! Jared pushed her away several times, but she'd pretend to lose her balance and fall right into his arms. And she took the chance to lean into his ear—I saw it clear as day—she stuck out her tongue and licked Jared's ear!"
Alger spoke dramatically, like he was describing something disgusting. "I lost it right then. Isn't she just a total slut? Jared's face went dark. If it wasn't for the Winslows' reputation, he would've thrown her out already! I saw this wasn't working, that woman's too calculating, so I called you right away, thinking if you came, she'd at least tone it down!"
So that's how it was.
So before I arrived, all these things I didn't know about had happened.
Listening to Alger's description, my stomach churned.
The picture he painted was way too vivid—so clear I could practically see the cold calculation lurking behind Keira's innocent little act.
And Jared, that man whose germophobia was so severe he'd frown if someone even touched his clothes, had actually tolerated her for so long.
The elevator reached the first floor, and the doors slowly opened.
I took a deep breath and walked out.
Alger followed beside me. Seeing my expression still hadn't improved, he gritted his teeth, like he'd made some major decision, leaned close to my ear, and lowered his voice to give me advice.
"Sloane, I think with women like that, you can't be too reserved."
I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, confused.
"You need to learn her game!" Alger said with complete seriousness, like he meant every word. "Men, well, they eat that stuff up! You need to act more cutesy than her, more seductive than her! You see how she presses against Jared? You press too! How she feeds him drinks? You do it too! She dares to lick his ear? You dare to kiss him! I don't believe it—with your looks, you can't beat her?"
Standing in the busy hotel lobby, listening to Alger's "words of wisdom," I didn't know how to react for a moment.
The sincerity and urgency in his eyes made me feel both absurd and sad.
So in men's eyes, love and marriage were just a competition of tactics and techniques. Whoever was willing to lower themselves more, whoever was better at pleasing, won.
But what I wanted was never to win.
I just wanted an equal, respectful, clean love. That's all.
Was that so hard?
I didn't argue with him. I just shook my head gently and said softly, "It's late. You should go back. Thank you."
Seeing I wouldn't budge, Alger scratched his head anxiously, but finally could only sigh helplessly. "Then take care of yourself. Call me if anything comes up."
After sending Alger off, I sat on a lobby sofa for a moment, but the churning nausea in my stomach hadn't lessened at all.
I needed some time to process everything that happened tonight.
"Sloane?" David looked surprised to see me return. "Didn't you leave because of an emergency? Why are you back?"
"I left something behind." I made up an excuse casually, my face still pale. "I found it now."
"Why is your face so pale?" David looked at me with concern. "Are you feeling sick?"
I pressed my stomach and nodded with a frown. "Maybe I drank too fast earlier. My stomach's not feeling great."
David immediately got nervous. "Then what are we waiting for? I'll take you to the hospital."
"No need for the hospital. It's an old problem. I'll be fine after resting."
Seeing my insistence, David didn't push further.
He quickly said goodbye to the other colleagues in the private room, arranged for them to take cabs home, then grabbed his coat and said to me, "Let's go. I'll take you."
I didn't refuse.
Walking out the restaurant doors, the evening breeze carried a hint of coolness.
I instinctively pulled my coat tighter, but my gaze froze the moment it landed on a black Bentley parked not far away.
Jared and Keira hadn't left yet.
The car door was open, and Jared was bent over, seemingly patiently coaxing Keira inside the car.
Keira wasn't visible, but I could faintly hear her intermittent crying.
That scene was like a needle, piercing straight and hard into my heart.
I looked away, expressionless, quickened my pace, and walked straight toward David's car parked on the other side.
I pulled open the door and quickly got in, as if floods and wild beasts were chasing me from behind.
David came around and got into the driver's seat. Just as he was about to start the car, someone knocked on the passenger window.
Outside the window, Jared's handsome face looked particularly grim in the night.
He stared at me intently, his eyes filled with suppressed anger and accusation.
David was startled by this scene and instinctively looked at me, asking with his eyes.
I took a deep breath, lowered the window, and looked at him coldly through the glass barrier. "What is it?"
"Where's Alger?" His voice was ice-cold, his gaze moving past me to land on David with scrutiny. "Didn't I tell him to take you home?"
So he still remembered he'd given that order.
"I didn't want to trouble him." I answered calmly, my tone completely flat. "David was going the same way."
My composure and coldness seemed to anger him even more.
I was too lazy to keep arguing with him. My gaze fell on the car behind him as I urged, "Miss Keira is still waiting for you. Didn't she sprain her ankle? You should hurry and take her to the hospital. Don't delay."
With that, I stopped looking at him, rolled up the window, and said to David beside me, "Let's go."
David looked at me, then glanced at the guy outside who looked ready to murder someone, and without asking a single question, fired up the engine.
The car slowly pulled away. In the rearview mirror, I saw Jared still standing there, his tall figure looking particularly isolated under the brilliant neon lights.
It wasn't until the car turned a corner and I could no longer see his figure that I felt all my strength drain away, and I slumped powerlessly against the seat back.
"Sloane," David beside me finally couldn't hold back and asked carefully, "That man just now... is he your boyfriend?"