Chapter 208 Chapter 208
Outside, the dynamic had changed.
Sara, being the perceptive girl she was, realized she was holding a giant, shiny candle.
“Ah... brother-in-law, sister...” Sara yawned dramatically. "I'm exhausted. I think the excitement of the car ride tired me out. I'm going to take a taxi and go home first, okay? You two can stay as long as you want.
Before Caroline could protest, Nicholas had already called a luxury ride-hailing app for his sister-in-law and paid for the ride in advance.
Sara left, leaving the couple alone.
It was still early. The night was just beginning.
Nicholas looked at Caroline. The night wind ruffled her hair slightly.
He thought they could continue their “date.”
In fact, they had never had a real date before. Their marriage was a hasty contract. They skipped the dating phase, the movies, the flowers, the courtship.
This was a source of great regret for Nicholas. He felt he had robbed her (and himself) of this experience.
He wanted to make up for it.
Although they were already married, it was never too late to date his own wife. He wanted to live out all the romantic clichés with Caroline.
As this visually stunning couple walked hand in hand down the busy sidewalk, attracting envious glances, Nicholas was fighting an internal battle.
He wanted to give Caroline the best romantic experience of her life.
The problem?
He had no experience. He was a genius in business and medicine, but a complete idiot in love.
He had no idea how to proceed.
How do normal people start a date? What do they do?
This was their first official date, and he didn't want to ruin it with his clumsiness.
Nicholas thought for a moment, frowned, and discreetly picked up his cell phone with his free hand.
He needed expert advice.
He decided to call on his “love guru”: Bratt, his personal assistant.
Bratt had suggested buying flowers last time, and Caroline was delighted. It was clear that Bratt, despite being single, understood women's tricks.
...
Somewhere in the city.
Bratt was eating instant noodles in his apartment, enjoying his day off, when his cell phone vibrated on the table.
He looked at the screen and almost choked on his noodles.
Boss (The Devil): \[Message\]
Bratt grimaced. Work at this hour?
He opened the message fearfully.
Boss: \[What do I need to do on the first date to make her happy? Answer as soon as possible.\]
Bratt blinked. He read it again.
He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
The Great President Wolf... the human iceberg... was asking for dating tips?
In recent years, Bratt had seen his boss treat women as if they were contagious viruses. He avoided any contact.
But now... the “iron tree” was blooming.
He had rushed into marriage and was now trying to learn how to date. It was like watching a robot try to learn how to write poetry.
Not that Bratt could judge. He was paid to solve problems, whether they were corporate mergers or romantic crises.
He typed quickly, assuming his role as Senior Love Advisor.
Bratt: \[President Wolf, a classic date is not quantum physics. The “Standard Formula” usually involves: 1. Romantic dinner. 2. Watching a movie at the theater. 3. Taking a walk in the moonlight. 4. Shopping/giving gifts. Choose two or three of these options and you can't go wrong.\]
The response came in seconds.
Boss: \[Dinner, movies, walk, and shopping? That's it? Do girls really enjoy doing these trivial things?\]
Nicholas was skeptical. It seemed too simple for the woman he wanted to impress. He was ready to buy an island or rent the Eiffel Tower, and Bratt was suggesting... movies?
Bratt: \[President, these are the basics of dating. Girls like to shop. You can take the girl to see a movie first and then walk around the mall. When you're there, watch what she looks at. If she looks at something for more than three seconds, buy it. She'll definitely be happy.\]
Nicholas: \[That's it? That simple?\]
Bratt: \[Of course. President Wolf, haven't you ever heard the popular saying, “Handbags cure all ills”?\]
Nicholas: \[“Handbags cure all ills”? What does that mean? Is it some kind of therapy?\]
Bratt: \[It means that women love to receive handbags. If she's sad, one handbag will fix it. If she's angry, two handbags will fix it. As long as they get a designer handbag, the world is rosy. President... why don't you try this tactic?\]
Nicholas stared at the illuminated response on the screen for a moment, thoughtfully.
Handbags.
So buying her a few pieces of expensive leather would really make her happy?
If that was all it took, maintaining marital bliss was frighteningly simple for someone with his bank account.
Nicholas locked his phone and put it in his pocket.
He turned and looked at the girl beside him, who was watching the shop windows in the distance.
Nicholas reflected for a moment, scanning the huge luxury shopping malls around the square where they stood. He stopped walking abruptly.
He turned to Caroline and asked, straight to the point: “Do you want to go shopping?”
Caroline blinked, surprised. “Shopping? Now?”
“Yes.” Nicholas pointed to the brightly lit shopping center across the street.
Caroline looked at the building, hesitated, and then shook her head, smiling awkwardly. “It's okay. I don't really need to buy anything.”
She lied. Caroline loved shopping. She and Tania spent their weekends window shopping and dreaming about what they couldn't afford.
But today... today she was with Nicholas.
And everyone knows that straight men hate shopping. They get bored, complain, and check their watches every five seconds.
Caroline didn't want to subject him to that torture on their first date. She didn't want to be a burden.
Nicholas was slightly taken aback by her refusal.
Did Bratt lie to me? he thought. He said women loved it.
Why didn't she show any interest? Was she immune to “retail therapy”?
He remained silent for a moment, his eyebrow arched in confusion. “Are you sure you don't want to go in? If you want, I'll go with you. I have time.”
“I... no, really. Let's just walk.”
Nicholas didn't give up. He needed to test Bratt's theory. His quick business mind searched for a loophole, a logical reason to get her to enter the store.