Chapter 160 Do You Like Me?
"Actually... I'm bisexual."
The man's voice hit like a thunderclap in Arabella's ears. She froze instantly, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind.
Bisexual—meaning he could be with men or women, right?
What did he mean by that? Could he... could he have feelings for her...?
She tried desperately to hide her panic, deliberately joking, "Why... why bring this up all of a sudden? Did you meet a girl you like?"
Alexander was silent for a moment. "Yeah... I guess so."
All the warmth in Arabella's body suddenly went cold.
He'd met a girl he liked. He had someone he liked.
So he could like both men and women. But the person he liked wasn't her.
Of course it made sense. Someone as amazing as him—great job, great family, so kind and gentle, and ridiculously handsome on top of it all. Why would he like a woman who'd been married before?
Arabella's smile was barely hanging on, but she forced herself to keep it up. "Congratulations. You found your true love."
Still unwilling to accept it, she swallowed the bitterness and probed further. "Who is it? Do I know her?"
Alexander's lips moved slightly. Facing her smiling expression, his heart felt equally uncomfortable.
Despite last night's loss of control, he still didn't dare speak plainly. Once he broke through that barrier, if he scared her away, the loss would be devastating.
So he could only subtly send out signals and gauge her reaction. But her reaction made his heart sink.
Hearing he liked someone, she didn't show even a hint of jealousy. Instead, she seemed genuinely happy for him?
His decision not to be direct was clearly the right choice. But he still felt unwilling to let it go, so he answered ambiguously, "You know her."
Arabella's heart went ice cold.
Someone they both knew. A woman.
She'd never seen any women around him, so it couldn't be one of his friends. That meant it had to be someone from her circle.
Her circle... He'd only met her coworkers once, so aside from them... could it be Daisy?
Now Arabella didn't even have the courage to keep asking. But she had to know. "Does she... like you back?"
Alexander glanced at her, hesitating slightly. "...I'm not sure."
Arabella's last shred of hope died completely.
She finally understood. No wonder Alexander had been taking such good care of her all this time—it was because of Daisy. He liked Daisy, and since she was Daisy's friend, he was taking care of her by extension. She'd been flattering herself this whole time...
She didn't know if Daisy liked Alexander back. If she did, how tormented she must have been—caught between a good friend and the man she liked. That's probably why she'd been so invested in Arabella and Alexander's progress.
Thinking of this, Arabella deeply regretted telling Daisy about her feelings for Alexander. If she hadn't said anything, all three of them would probably be less stressed right now.
Alexander watched her expression change several times, his own heart drumming with anxiety. He couldn't read her thoughts or figure out what she was thinking.
He felt like Arabella's reaction was off somehow. He probed carefully. "What are you thinking about?"
Arabella hesitated, then forced a cheerful expression. "If you really like her, you should be brave and tell her. Don't overthink... things. Two people who love each other should be together. I'll sincerely bless you both."
Alexander's heart dropped. He repeated unconsciously, "You'll bless us too?"
Something felt way off. Had she misunderstood?
Arabella smiled weakly and nodded. "Of course I'll bless you both. I'll even be your bridesmaid... oh wait, married people can't be bridesmaids."
She looked a bit dejected but kept up the forced smile. "That's fine though. I'll work behind the scenes and make sure your wedding is absolutely beautiful."
Because Daisy... she's my best friend.
For her, as long as Daisy could be happy, her own discomfort didn't matter. She would only offer blessings, nothing else, because she genuinely wanted Daisy to be happy.
She was even happy for Daisy in a way. Daisy had such a strong personality—often it wasn't that she didn't feel hurt, but that she swallowed her pain because no one had ever cared for her growing up. Her tough, domineering exterior was protective armor, just fear of getting hurt.
Having someone provide her a safe harbor, letting her restless heart settle down, keeping her from drifting and hurting and crying anymore—Arabella couldn't be more thrilled.
Even if that person was the man she liked, it was okay.
Thinking this, Arabella looked at Alexander again, fighting back the stinging in her nose to say solemnly, "You have to treat her well, okay? If you're not good to her, I won't forgive you."
Alexander was now certain they'd completely misunderstood each other. He asked, "Who do you think I like?"
Arabella felt close to tears, sniffling. "Isn't it Daisy?"
"...Daisy?" Alexander nearly choked on this answer. His usually calm blue eyes showed a flash of shock. "Why would you think something so ridiculous?"
Arabella said matter-of-factly, "The women we both know are just these few friends of mine. Only Daisy has spent more time with you, so it should be her..."
She sensed something was off. Alexander's reaction seemed to be... a denial?
"It's not Daisy?" Arabella frowned. "Then who else?"
Even Alexander's good temper was wearing thin now. He scoffed and said cryptically, "There's also you among the people we both know. Why didn't you guess yourself?"
He threw out this line and turned straight into the bathroom.
Arabella stood alone in the living room, feeling like she'd been struck by lightning. Wait, what did he mean by that?
Was he just saying it casually, or...?
The nervousness and panic that had just dispersed came flooding back.
But when Alexander came out of the bathroom, he only glanced at her once, didn't explain anything, and went straight into the bedroom.
Arabella's heart was being clawed at like a cat scratching. She was nervous but also a little excited. Part of her wanted to hope for something, but she was afraid of being presumptuous. Yet he'd clearly said that kind of thing...
She bit her lip and walked into the bedroom holding a cushion.
Alexander was mopping the floor. When she entered, he only looked up briefly before continuing to mop.
Arabella cleared her throat. "You..."
Before she could get the question out, her palms were already sweating, her heart pounding, her face burning hot. She finally asked, "Do you like me?"
Alexander's answer remained ambiguous, deliberately carrying a hint of pique as he said expressionlessly, "What do you think?"
He didn't dare speak too definitively. He'd gotten word yesterday afternoon that Arabella had gone apartment hunting yesterday morning and had signed a year-long contract. What did that mean? It meant she was planning to move out.
If she had feelings for him, why would she move out?
So he could only express his feelings this way—subtly, without triggering her resistance.
Arabella was completely flustered. What did she think? What was she supposed to think?
This guy was something else. Was it really so hard to just say it clearly? It was just one sentence—like or don't like. Couldn't he just say it directly?
She got a bit annoyed too and said bluntly, "I don't know."
Alexander was silent for a few seconds. "Don't you remember what you said to me last night?"
Arabella's back went numb as she laughed awkwardly.
She'd gotten drunk last night and completely blacked out. Of course she didn't remember anything.
She'd actually grabbed Alexander and talked to him? What had she said? She didn't really confess, did she? That couldn't be right—she was way too chicken to do something like that, right?
"Ahem, I don't remember..." Arabella said guiltily. "What did I say?"
Alexander said expressionlessly, "You said I was really handsome, had a great body, and you wanted to sleep with me."
Arabella felt her face burning up, wanting to find a hole to crawl into.
She couldn't show her face anymore! God, what had she done! This was beyond mortifying!
"I... I was talking nonsense..." She tried to explain. "You know, when people get drunk, their brain stops working and they say the truth... I mean, not the truth, but like, random stuff. Yeah, random drunk talk. I was just babbling. I really didn't want to sleep with you... I mean, I really didn't think that way. You get it, right?"
Alexander watched her flustered state, and the slight displeasure in his heart finally disappeared. He knew this anger came from having expectations he shouldn't have had—it had nothing to do with her. He was just mad at himself for losing patience when he'd initially decided to take things slow.
Now he couldn't help but smile slightly. "Yeah, I get it."
Arabella breathed a sigh of relief. After this interruption, she didn't have the courage to keep asking about whether he liked her or not. She'd already told him to his face that she wanted to sleep with him—did it even matter whether he liked her or not?
She obediently closed the bedroom door, silently turned and left, grabbed her bag from the entryway, and fled to work.
Too embarrassing. So embarrassing her toes were curling hard enough to excavate a three-bedroom apartment.
How could she have said something like that? She wanted to die.
Did Alexander think she was some kind of old pervert now?
Arabella's mind was a mess as she nearly twisted her ankle getting off the elevator.
Love really did affect one's luck—she was already having bad luck now, ugh.
Over the next few days, Alexander seemed very busy. Arabella kept missing him, so she never had a chance to bring up moving out.
"If this keeps dragging on, when will I ever make a clean break?" Arabella sighed.
---
"If you keep dragging it out, eventually she'll forget about it!"
In the third-floor VIP room at Crystal Club, Blake slapped his chest confidently, telling Alexander with absolute certainty.
Alexander sat on the black leather sofa, somewhat irritably glancing at Frank smoking across from him and Blake canoodling with a beauty. "I knew you two wouldn't have any good ideas. Coming to you was a mistake."
But what else could he do? These two were the only friends he had who'd actually dated anyone.
Ever since learning that Arabella had signed a rental contract, he immediately thought of that afternoon when she'd texted him saying she had something to discuss with him. It was probably about moving out.
So these past few days he'd been leaving early and coming home late, not even daring to show his face, afraid of running into her and having her corner him about moving out.
If she insisted on moving, he didn't know what reason he could use to refuse.
Frank crossed his legs, flicking ash from his cigarette. "That's harsh, man. It's not like I didn't try. I went to find that landlord just like you asked, offered ten times the rent to snatch that apartment away, but who knew the landlord would be so upright? He practically treated me like a criminal."
Almost called the cops on him.
He casually tossed his cigarette pack to Alexander. "Have one. You need to calm down before talking to us. Look at yourself. If your subordinates knew that the decisive Mr. FitzRoy was just a lovesick fool, could you even function?"
Alexander tossed the cigarettes back. "I quit."
"Quit?" Frank was shocked. "You smoked for over ten years. Just quit like that? What happened?"
Blake said expressionlessly with a dry laugh, "Because Arabella doesn't like the smell of smoke."
"And you just quit?" Frank asked in disbelief. "Just because of that?"
"What else? She doesn't like the smell of smoke—why wouldn't I quit?" Alexander asked back.
This left Frank and Blake speechless.
Finally, Frank managed to say, "I feel like calling you lovesick is still giving you too much credit. You've got terminal love cancer. The incurable kind."
Alexander actually nodded in agreement. "Yeah, if it's with her, being incurable is fine."
Frank stopped talking.
Though he seemed wild and unrestrained on the surface, he actually had a girl he couldn't have in his heart too. When it came down to it, he wasn't much better off than Alexander.
Blake, on the other hand, couldn't understand. "What does love even feel like? You guys are acting like strangers to me."
This time, Alexander and Frank answered simultaneously, "You'll know when it happens to you."
In midair, the two commiserating men's gazes collided, both carrying a hint of bitterness.
Blake held the beauty in his arms, feeling apprehensive, waving his hand in refusal. "Forget it. I'll just be a man who stays untouched by any of it."
The woman in his arms giggled at this.
---
Second floor private room.
Anthony listened to Leo's report, his frown deepening. "The surgical genius Frank? He doesn't just know Blake, he knows Frank too? What exactly is his background?"
Leo shook his head. "They only had drinks once. The server couldn't stay inside long, but could tell their relationship seemed pretty good. And Alexander was sitting in the host seat, with Blake and Frank in the secondary positions. Frank even personally poured drinks for him."
Anthony couldn't make sense of it. "If he's someone really important, why would he be just a small-time salesman? But if he doesn't have powerful backing, why would so many people step up for him and Arabella?"
That's right—after thinking it over, he felt the so-called sister of Arabella who'd kidnapped and warned his mother must be connected to Alexander.
After all, he knew Arabella's social circle inside and out. Besides one effeminate man and one mannish woman, those were her only two friends, neither of whom amounted to anything or could pull off something like this.
It could only be connections from Alexander's side.
So these past few days he'd been carefully investigating Alexander, but couldn't find anything—until today, when his people discovered Alexander meeting with Blake and Frank.
Frank had the Murphy family behind him, and the Murphy family was top-tier aristocracy in Majestic City. Forget the Watson and Reeves families—even the Tucker family was nothing compared to the Murphy family.
Blake's background couldn't be traced, but judging from his behavior, it was definitely extraordinary.
Yet these two showed Alexander such respect, letting him take the host seat and personally pouring drinks for him...
Anthony gripped his glass tightly. After a long moment, he said coldly to Leo, "Got it. You can go now."