Chapter 186
Mark's footsteps were steady and particularly clear on the quiet mountain road.
He walked up to me, his gaze settling on me as he asked softly, "It's so late, where are you heading, Ms. Brown?"
"Mr. Harris." I responded politely, "I'm going to the hospital to bring my mom some clean clothes."
My eyes unconsciously glanced at my phone screen, which still showed I was waiting in the queue.
Mark followed my gaze and glanced at it too, then seemed to understand, "At this time, in this place, getting a cab isn't easy. Let me give you a ride, I'm heading that way anyway."
He would give me a ride?
My heart skipped a beat, and I almost immediately shook my head and waved my hands, refusing repeatedly, "No need, Mr. Harris, that's too much trouble for you. My cab will be here any minute, really!"
I emphasized somewhat guiltily, "Look, the system shows a driver has already accepted the order and is on the way."
In reality, my order was still being ignored by everyone.
But I really felt too embarrassed, and didn't dare trouble Mark to drive me personally.
Who was he?
He was the head of a world-class company about to launch a major collaboration with our company.
He was the big shot who had just been dining at our table, someone we needed to treat with respect.
How could I take up his precious time for my personal matters?
What if I delayed his important business, or made him think I didn't know my place, affecting his impression of Star Tech, or even of me personally? Wouldn't that be penny-wise and pound-foolish?
The collaboration with Harris Aviation Technology Group was too important for Star Tech right now.
I absolutely couldn't become a potential variable because of personal reasons.
Mark looked at my obviously nervous and resistant demeanor but didn't speak right away.
He just quietly looked at me, those deep eyes appearing particularly calm in the night, as if they could easily see through my not-so-clever lie.
The evening breeze blew past, bringing a hint of coolness, and also stirring a disobedient strand of hair on his forehead.
He didn't call out my lie, nor did he insist.
But in his gaze, there seemed to flash a very faint emotion that I couldn't read.
I was brainstorming frantically, desperately thinking about how to politely but firmly refuse Mark's kindness, and how I should respond if he insisted.
But Mark had already taken direct action. As if he hadn't seen the struggle and resistance all over my face, he naturally stepped forward, reached out, and easily took the two heavy bags of clothes from my hands, "I happen to be passing by Evergreen Wellness Hospital anyway, let's go."
I was a bit stunned by this series of actions. It wasn't until he opened the back door and put the bags inside that I suddenly snapped back to reality.
"Mr. Harris, this is too much trouble for you." I quickly jogged over, fumbling to open the back door, wanting to take the things out, then obediently sit in the back seat myself to minimize my presence as much as possible.
However, after Mark put the things away, he casually closed the back door, then opened the passenger door.
He turned back, looking at me standing there a bit dazed because my plan had been disrupted, and the corner of his lips curved up almost imperceptibly.
A trace of very faint amusement seemed to flash through those deep eyes.
"Sit in front," his voice was gentler than before, even carrying a hint of almost teasing humor, "I don't want you to treat me like a driver. Although my driving skills should be pretty good, I really don't get many chances to drive myself."
He was using humor to ease my embarrassment and nervousness, and also expressing his insistence in a gentle but firm way.
I was stunned again by his sense of humor, then felt my cheeks getting slightly warm.
Since he'd put it that way, if I kept being coy and refusing, it would seem affected and ungrateful instead.
"Thank you, Mr. Harris." I thanked him in a low voice, no longer hesitating, and bent down to sit in the passenger seat.
The interior was spacious, filled with a clean and pleasant scent, identical to Mark's own aura—clean and steady.
Mark got into the driver's seat from the other side and closed the door.
He didn't start the car immediately, but turned slightly, his gaze falling on me.
I felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze and instinctively looked down to check if something was wrong with me, asking softly, "Mr. Harris, what's wrong?"
"Seatbelt." He reminded me, his voice carrying a barely noticeable hint of amusement.
"Sorry!" My face heated up as I fumbled to pull the seatbelt over and buckle it.
I silently cursed myself—how could I be so nervous that I forgot even this?
Only then did Mark look away and start the engine.
The car smoothly glided onto the mountain road in the night.
The car stereo automatically started playing music—a piano piece with a soothing melody, ethereal and distant, flowing quietly in the enclosed cabin.
I was somewhat surprised.
This style of music was completely different from the rousing marches or elegant operas I'd imagined, and was instead the type I personally loved for relaxing.
Mark liked listening to this kind of music too?
Maybe it was just a coincidence.
For a moment, only the music flowed through the cabin, so quiet I could clearly hear my own heartbeat.
Being alone with a man who was almost a stranger, yet whose status was so special, in such an enclosed space—it would be a lie to say I wasn't feeling awkward.
Just as I felt the atmosphere was getting a bit strangely uncomfortable and was thinking about whether I should find some topic to discuss, Mark spoke first.
His voice broke the silence, still gentle, as if just making casual conversation, "Ms. Brown, the tea I drank at dinner tonight didn't seem like what The Velvet Table provides?"
He paused, his gaze still focused on the road ahead, his tone casual, "Did you prepare it?"
My heart skipped a beat.
I hadn't expected him to be so observant that he could notice even the difference in a cup of tea, and still remembered it.
"Yes, Mr. Harris, I took it upon myself to make it for you."
"I heard Mr. Jones mention that you prefer drinking tea, especially varieties with a clean and sweet aftertaste."
"I looked at The Velvet Table's tea menu, and most of it was common business tea that might not suit your taste."
"I happen to have a friend whose family has a small tea garden, and this year's new harvest is quite good. Mr. Thomas tried it and said it was good too, so I brought some, thinking if you didn't mind, you could try it."
I spoke somewhat cautiously, since changing the tea without permission was actually a bit out of line in a business setting.
"Mr. Thomas? The retired Mr. Thomas from Aviation Administration?" Mark asked.
"Yes, he was my advisor in college, and one of my technical mentors." I nodded.
Mark understood, then the corner of his lips curved into a slight arc, "Don't be nervous, I'm not angry."
His gaze seemed to glance at me through the rearview mirror, his voice carrying a power that calmed people, "On the contrary, I appreciate your thoughtfulness. That tea was indeed good—elegant aroma, rich flavor, and a nice aftertaste. I had two cups."
The bit of unease in my heart immediately dissipated quite a bit, even giving rise to a small sense of joy.
It seemed my taking matters into my own hands hadn't offended him, and might even have been a plus.
"Besides," he changed the subject, his tone becoming even more casual, "you don't need to be so formal with me all the time. I'm only a few years older than you, and it sounds too polite."
He paused, "You can call me Mark."
Calling him Mark directly would be too familiar. Given our current positions and relationship, it obviously wasn't appropriate.
I hardly hesitated before smiling and saying, "You're our partner, so I'd better keep calling you Mr. Harris."
Mark didn't seem surprised by my choice. He just let out a very low laugh from his throat and didn't continue with this topic.
The car soon entered the city area, and traffic gradually increased.
Following my directions, Mark first drove to the hospital where Flora was staying.
The car stopped, and I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt, "Mr. Harris, please wait for me a moment. I'll just take these things up to my aunt and come right back down, very quick!"
I didn't dare make him wait long, and even less dare to invite him up with me.
Flora had a straightforward personality—if she saw Mark and started asking all sorts of random questions, I couldn't even imagine that scene.