Chapter 23 Banquet
During work hours, colleagues were chatting about gossip involving a popular actress. Julie Taylor, who recently became famous from a movie, was photographed getting into a mysterious man's car.
The photo, taken late at night, captured only the man's back. Broad shoulders and long legs were apparent, accentuated by an elegant, well-fitted custom suit.
Jennifer glanced at it and froze—she recognized that car. It was Francis's car. Looking at that figure, she was almost certain it was him. Julie was sexy and beautiful, truly a good match standing beside him.
Everyone discussed Julie and the owner of that luxury car. "Julie is really lucky—young, beautiful, and her first movie was a hit. And look at her boyfriend, driving a multi-million dollar luxury car. From his back, he doesn't look old and seems to be a handsome guy too."
"You can tell if someone's handsome from one blurry picture? Is it the person who's handsome or the money?"
"Both! When someone's that rich, as long as they don't look like a monster, they'll seem handsome and charming."
Jennifer only listened for a moment before looking away and continuing to reply to client emails. She should have known—Francis was a playboy, and he had the means to be one. He was just casually helping her out; it didn't mean she was special to him.
Francis hadn't messaged her these past few days. She figured he'd probably forgotten about her already.
The day before the dinner party, Jennifer received an exquisite evening gown with matching jewelry, quite valuable.
It seemed Francis still planned to have her as his date. It was a pale yellow off-shoulder gown that perfectly showed off her slender, elegant neck and delicate shoulders.
The soft yellow made her skin look even smoother and more refined. Standing in front of the mirror, Jennifer was a bit amazed—she rarely dressed up so formally.
What surprised her more was that Francis had good taste, and his size estimate was very accurate. He must have given clothes to many women to develop such precise judgment.
The next day after work, Francis drove to her office building to pick her up. Jennifer slipped into the car quickly to avoid office gossip.
Francis was carefully dressed, with an elaborate vintage bow tie and his bangs seemingly styled with care.
Jennifer looked at him a couple more times, and Francis smiled and asked, "Haven't seen each other for a few days—do you miss me that much, Ms. Brown?"
Jennifer nervously swallowed, "I don't. Thank you for sending the dress, but I didn't have time to change at the office."
Francis checked his watch, "The dinner starts at nine. We still have two and a half hours. I'll take you to the styling studio first."
Time was a bit tight. The stylist did simple hair and makeup for Jennifer, but fortunately, she had good skin and pretty features, so the result was great.
Francis looked at her and nodded with satisfaction. Today's Jennifer was different from usual—more refined and more charming. Like a peach covered in morning dew, even more fresh and tempting.
His aggressive gaze made Jennifer shrink back. She called out softly, "Dr. Carter, we should go."
Francis said, "Jennifer, call me by my name today." As his date for the evening, it would be too distant if they kept calling each other Dr. Carter and Ms. Brown.
"Okay, Francis." It made Jennifer's heart flutter. She softly called his name too, as if their relationship had become closer.
At the dinner party, there were many celebrities often seen in newspapers and news. Jennifer held Francis's arm and accompanied him through social interactions.
Francis had high status, and many people came to greet him. Jennifer inevitably had some drinks. Someone asked, "Mr. Carter, this is the first time I've seen this young lady. Who is she?"
Francis raised his glass with a slight smile, "Jennifer, my date for tonight."
Jennifer's mood was complicated. She was just a date he paid to accompany him for drinks, not even a friend.
These people smiled and toasted with her, but they probably looked down on her for having no status. Though she felt a bit down, Jennifer still wore a polite, courteous smile on her face, just drinking a bit too hastily and accidentally choking.
Francis quickly pulled out his handkerchief and pressed it to the corner of her mouth, "How can you be so careless?"
Jennifer's cheeks flushed slightly as she took the handkerchief, "I can do it myself." She grabbed the handkerchief a bit urgently, inevitably touching his fingers. Francis's index finger pad was a bit rough, probably from surgical scalpels, and sliding across the back of her hand sent tingles through her.
Someone wanted to chat more with Francis, but he raised his hand to decline, "My date isn't feeling well. Excuse us." He then helped Jennifer walk outside, and they came to a small garden, sitting down on a bench.
The small garden had dim lighting, and the air was filled with the rich fragrance of roses.
Francis held Jennifer's hand and asked with concern, "Do you feel better now? If you can't handle alcohol well, you don't need to drink with us. You're my date—no one will give you a hard time for drinking juice."
Jennifer shook her head and looked at him without speaking. In the darkness, his features were still striking and attractive.
Francis rubbed her chin with his thumb—there was a bit of red wine stain that hadn't been wiped clean. Her skin was delicate and soft, leaving a small red mark with just a touch.
He murmured, "You smell so good, sweet." He squinted slightly, sniffing at her neck, his nose tip brushing across her cool collarbone.
Jennifer pressed against his chin and pushed outward, "Francis, people might pass by. What are you trying to do?"
"What do you think I'm trying to do?" Francis pressed her fingers against his lips, his tongue extending to lick her fingertips, his eyes falling on her lips. "You're very tempting today. I've wanted to kiss you for a long time."
He leaned his head closer, but Jennifer turned aside and asked in a low voice, "Francis, what's our relationship?"
"Relationship? Naturally the relationship between a man and woman who are attracted to each other. Jennifer, are you saying you don't want to hug and kiss me?" He wrapped his arm around her slender waist, pulling her body toward him.
Jennifer melted into his arms, letting him move across her lips, his tongue pushing through the gap between her lips, creating suggestive wet sounds. Her lipstick was kissed off, and Francis was getting into it. The two could only leave early.
In the car, Francis held Jennifer and kissed her for a long time until they were interrupted by a car horn, and the two reluctantly separated. Jennifer suppressed her racing heart and said with unsteady breath, "Dr. Carter, the party is over. Take me home."
It was getting late, and there was an important meeting early the next morning, so Francis really didn't have other plans for tonight.
He drove Jennifer home and discovered the new address was no longer in the original villa district but in a somewhat rundown old part of town. The house Jennifer rented was in an alley where his car couldn't go, so he could only drop her off on the main road.
Watching Jennifer walk in high heels on the dirty, uneven path, he felt a twinge of sympathy. A delicate beauty like her, like a doll, shouldn't be living in such an environment. But she didn't want to be his lover—did she want to be his girlfriend? He didn't want to be tied down by a woman.