Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Christopher's lips curled into a slight smile. He leaned in closer and reached over to buckle Isabella's seatbelt.

He seemed to be in a good mood today. He even reached out and patted Isabella on the head, his voice deep yet gentle, "Just helping you with your seatbelt."

Though it sounded like an explanation, Isabella couldn't help but sense a teasing undertone.

It was as if Christopher had done it on purpose, but his words made it seem like Isabella was the one with impure thoughts.

Isabella felt a bit embarrassed and pretended to look straight ahead, avoiding Christopher's gaze.

Christopher returned to the driver's seat. A quick glance to the side and he could see the blush on Isabella's cheeks.

His smile widened slightly, and with a press of the gas pedal, the black Maybach roared away.

They arrived at a street lined with sycamore trees, ending at a courtyard enclosed by a wooden fence.

The fence followed the street's curve, its dark brown wood grain rich with age. Ivy, dark green and lush, wrapped around the top, interspersed with small white lilies of the valley. 

When the wind blew, the petals trembled, revealing glimpses of the rustic red brick wall behind the fence.

From the outside alone, Isabella could tell this restaurant was upscale.

It seemed like a place Christopher frequented, but not somewhere Isabella would usually go.

Isabella unbuckled her seatbelt with one hand. As she opened the door to get out, she noticed a waiter already waiting beside them.

The waiter, standing next to Isabella, asked attentively, "Miss, would you like me to carry your bag?"

Isabella looked at her five-dollar canvas bag, which contained only her phone, charger, and some unimportant documents. It was worth less than the waiter's hourly wage.

But Isabella wasn't used to being served like this. She smiled lightly, "No, thank you. I can carry it myself."

Christopher, on the other hand, casually tossed his keys to the waiting valet.

Then he walked over and said gently, "Follow me."

He seemed to be in a particularly good mood today, speaking with a tenderness that reminded Isabella of when they were dating.

The restaurant had a refined, understated elegance. Warm light descended from the ceiling, casting a soft glow on the walnut dining tables.

The waiter led them to a window seat. 

The silverware on the table reflected a subtle shine, and the napkins were folded into intricate swan shapes. A porcelain vase held two fresh white lisianthus flowers.

"Sir, what would you like to order?"

Christopher opened the menu and ordered a few dishes, then handed it to Isabella. "See if there's anything else you want."

Isabella didn't need to look to know that any dish on this menu would cost her half a month's salary.

Christopher seemed to read her mind. "Order whatever you like. It's on me."

"No, what you ordered is enough," Isabella said after a moment. "Besides, I'm just here to accompany Mr. Harrison. Your choices are fine with me."

Just as she finished speaking, her phone chimed with a message notification.

Isabella glanced at her phone and saw Benjamin's name: [Isabella, today's project was really tough. I've already had dinner. Have you eaten yet?]

Isabella frowned slightly at the message.

She couldn't shake the feeling that Benjamin's recent texts were different somehow.

But she couldn't pinpoint exactly why, only that they made her uncomfortable.

She reassured herself that it was probably just because she hadn't seen Benjamin in a while, making things feel a bit unfamiliar.

She typed back: [About to eat.]

Benjamin: [Okay, enjoy your meal. I won't bother you. I have to get back to work on the project.]

Isabella stared at the last message for a few seconds before replying with a simple "Okay."

Her expression didn't escape Christopher's notice. He knew exactly who she was chatting with at that moment.

But he didn't show it. Just then, the waiter brought their food.

Christopher said, "Try it and see if you like it."

Isabella's hand paused. Christopher's words made it sound like he'd bring her here again if she enjoyed it.

She felt a bit irritated.

She ate the meal absentmindedly, her thoughts tangled with recent events, so much so that she didn't notice how much she was eating.

When Christopher saw her empty plate, he seemed pleased. "Looks like you enjoyed the food here."

Isabella was startled and realized she had indeed finished everything on her plate.

She looked at Christopher's half-eaten dish and his smiling face, feeling embarrassed.

She didn't know why Christopher had invited her to this dinner, but her behavior had made the evening seem harmonious.

It was the first time since their reunion that things felt this way.

Isabella couldn't ignore the warmth and calm she felt inside.

She sighed inwardly, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. "It's okay."

"Isabella, is it so hard to admit in front of me?" Christopher's tone suddenly shifted, becoming as lofty as the night they had their falling out. 

"This restaurant is the best in the city. The ingredients are fresh and limited in supply. You can't get a table without a reservation. It's nothing like what you're used to."

Christopher had intended to say it was nothing like the cheap restaurant Benjamin had taken her to last time.

But he didn't want to spoil this lovely evening by bringing up Benjamin, whom he considered a cheap man.

Isabella's face changed immediately upon hearing his words.

She didn't realize Christopher was comparing himself to Benjamin.

She just thought Christopher's inherent arrogance was showing again.

He enjoyed being superior.

Isabella felt that her earlier sense of peace was laughable. Christopher would never change.

Even if he had made some changes for her recently, it was for his own reasons.

Maybe it was like the bet he had with Earl back then. His kindness was just a hunter's game with his prey.

He would always be the hunter with the upper hand, while she was the prey, falsely believing she was safe in her territory.

Isabella's expression turned cool. When she looked at Christopher, her eyes were devoid of emotion. 

"Mr. Harrison, I'm not picky about food. As long as it fills me up, eating at a fancy restaurant like this is no different from grabbing a sandwich from a street cart. It makes no difference to me."