Chapter 155
Cedric's fingertips hovered close, his warm breath mixed with a faint cedar scent drifting across her neck.
Josephine could hear her own heartbeat, pounding against her eardrums.
He bent his head, his slender fingers slowly and gently tugging at the zipper.
All Josephine had to do was look up, and she'd see his face mere inches away.
She'd never... really looked at him before.
Partly because they weren't close, and he was Gideon's brother, she'd never just stare at his face like that.
They'd known each other for years, but she knew he was good-looking.
This was just the first time she'd observed him this closely.
He was really handsome.
Josephine wasn't boy-crazy, never had much interest in good-looking guys, but even she couldn't help but marvel.
When the zipper came undone, Cedric's thumb inadvertently brushed her collarbone, startling her back to her senses.
"Thanks," she said quietly.
She took an imperceptible step backward.
Cedric caught the movement, his voice dropping. "You seem really afraid of me?"
Josephine was about to protest when she heard footsteps from outside the balcony, drawing closer.
She instinctively turned. She didn't need to look to know who it was.
Her father's footsteps were different from her mother's—Mother's were lighter, Father's heavier.
And these footsteps were heavy.
Josephine blurted out, "Do you need to hide somewhere?"
Cedric froze, still holding that ginkgo leaf. "Do I need to hide somewhere?"
Josephine was caught off guard by his question.
That's when it hit her—why was she feeling guilty? Nothing had happened between them. Even if her father came over, there'd be nothing to see!
But she couldn't admit that. She hedged, "My father never really liked you much. If he sees us alone together, he might get the wrong idea."
Cedric looked around. "Where exactly would I hide?"
This was a balcony, barely ten feet across. There were no closets or enclosed spaces to duck into—unless he dangled off the edge.
Cedric sounded helpless. "I'm not Batman."
Josephine scratched her cheek awkwardly. "I wasn't thinking straight."
The footsteps had reached the balcony door. Josephine quickly turned, pulled the door open, and stepped out. Before Preston could see what was inside, she shut the door behind her.
"What were you doing in there? Your mom wants you to come eat," Preston said, curious, trying to peek past her.
Too bad the door was closed, blocking his view. He couldn't see anything.
"Got it. Let's go back. I was just taking a phone call on the balcony."
"What phone call takes that long?"
"Work stuff..."
Father and daughter chatted as they walked away.
About five minutes later, Cedric returned.
The three members of Josephine's family were already seated in the dining room—Preston and Gemma sitting together, Josephine across from them.
Seeing him, Preston looked puzzled. "How'd you come from the balcony direction?"
Josephine's heart skipped a beat.
Cedric sat down next to Josephine. "I went to wash my hands before dinner, but got a phone call that took a bit longer."
"Young people work hard, I get it." Preston didn't suspect a thing—after all, their bathroom was indeed in the hallway leading to the balcony.
Seeing her father believe it, Josephine breathed a sigh of relief and took a bite of food. Then belatedly realized something was off.
They were just boss and employee. Even if they'd talked on the same balcony, so what? Why was she feeling guilty?
She'd worked herself into such a nervous state, like they were having some kind of secret affair.
No.
Josephine found that thought too horrifying and quickly shook her head, forcing Cedric out of her mind.
The meal went more harmoniously than she'd expected. Preston didn't give Cedric a hard time—their conversation was perfectly cordial.
Josephine went from anxious to calm.
After dinner, Cedric was about to leave.
Josephine sat on the sofa without moving. Preston, busy helping his wife clear dishes, glanced at her. "Our guest is leaving. Go see him out."
"Me?" Josephine seriously wondered if she'd heard wrong. Hadn't her father always disliked Cedric?
Yet here he was, actively telling her to see Cedric out!
Could one dinner and a chess game really change her father's mind?
"What's wrong with seeing a guest out? Hurry up."
"...Okay." Josephine got up to change shoes and walked Cedric downstairs. They left the apartment and got in the elevator. Josephine couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. "How did you know my father loves chess?"
Other than her, her mother, and a bunch of old folks in the neighborhood, nobody knew about that.
Cedric's casual expression paused for a beat. Soon, he said offhandedly, "Daryl."
"Oh, so he told you." If it was Daryl, that made perfect sense. That guy was Preston's ultimate fanboy. Ever since they'd met, they'd been calling each other constantly.
Josephine had overheard them more than once. Who knew what they talked about, but once they got going, they could chat for over an hour.
Actually, it had caused some comedy early on—Preston's phone obsession made Gemma suspicious, thinking her husband was having an affair.
The couple had quite the argument until Josephine found out the person on the other end was Daryl. She hadn't known whether to laugh or cry.
Lost in thought, she didn't notice the elevator doors opening. The two of them walked out one after the other. The wind outside was cold, lifting Josephine's hair.
In the next second, a jacket settled over her shoulders, its heavy collar pressing down her scattered strands.
Cedric had removed his jacket, leaving only a black dress shirt. He gently smoothed her hair, the black fabric pressed against his frame by the wind.
This scene...
Josephine felt this was a test for her.
Everyone appreciates beauty—faced with such exceptional looks, who wouldn't sneak a few extra glances?
"It's cold out here. Don't come any further; just head back inside." Cedric said softly, adjusting the jacket around her before pulling his hands away.
His black dress shirt looked thin. When the wind caught it, you could almost make out the contours of his body underneath. Josephine felt cold just looking at him.
Yet he seemed completely unbothered.
"You don't need me to walk you to your car?" Josephine asked politely.
Cedric let out a soft laugh. "If you walk me downstairs and catch a cold, next time your father will throw me out."
He'd finally earned a bit of goodwill—he didn't want to undo it all.
Josephine was helpless. "It's not that serious. My father's not unreasonable. Otherwise, he wouldn't have told me to see you out."
"You're right. Your father is very reasonable." While playing chess, Cedric had noticed—Preston appeared steady but was actually quite impulsive. In those few games, Preston shouldn't have lost.
But he'd lost precisely because of his impatience. Getting anxious led to mistakes, and mistakes gave Cedric openings to exploit.
Of course, he wasn't foolish enough to say any of this to Josephine.
"Go back. I'm leaving now," he said, turning to go.
Wrapped in the warm jacket, Josephine was about to turn back when she suddenly remembered his jacket was still on her. But it was too late to chase after him, so she let it go.
She'd return it next time.
But just then, a voice called out from behind her.
"Jojo."