Chapter 177 Interested in Her
Caroline nodded, seemingly taking Nash's words to heart, and said in a calm yet forceful tone, "Mr. Hearst, I can understand your position. I wasn't privy to the prior arrangements, but I operate on my own set of principles. If you're as confident in VoltWave Cables as you say you are, then the best course of action is to participate actively in the project's bidding process. Prepare your proposal with the utmost sincerity. I believe a strong brand naturally has an advantage, and the Seaside City Power Authority is certainly willing to support the growth of local businesses. I look forward to seeing an outstanding bid from VoltWave Cables."
Nash, a man accustomed to navigating boardrooms and high-stakes negotiations, did not lose his composure at her direct refusal. The smile remained fixed on his face, but his gaze sharpened, now tinged with a complex, unreadable interest.
Seeing the shift, Briar quickly intervened. "Ms. Tudor, thank you for your confidence in VoltWave Cables. I assure you, Mr. Hearst will not disappoint."
Nash's attention shifted to Briar, who then raised her glass toward Caroline. "Ms. Tudor, on behalf of the entire team at VoltWave Cables, thank you for your support."
Caroline raised her glass, and Nash and Jasper also drank a toast with her.
As Nash set his glass down, his stare deepened. Jasper had been right; she was remarkably uncompromising.
Still, he knew that securing a project of this magnitude often required several rounds of negotiation and persuasion. The bidding hadn't officially started, which meant he still had time. He would not rush it.
During a lull in the conversation, Caroline checked her phone and saw a WhatsApp message from Leopold, sent half an hour ago.
, Leopold: [I'm in the car waiting for you.]
Caroline: [Okay.]
By the time the dinner concluded, Caroline had not made any commitment to award the project to VoltWave Cables. As Nash walked her out, he presented her with a bag from a high-end skincare brand.
"Ms. Tudor, for our first meeting, I wasn't sure what to get. I asked some of the women at my company, and they said this brand is quite popular right now. It's nothing extravagant, just a small token. Please accept it."
Caroline made no move to take the bag, politely declining. "Mr. Hearst, I appreciate the thought, but my skin doesn't tolerate this brand very well. Thank you, though."
From their conversation, Nash had already gauged her firm stance and understood the implication of her refusal. "It's not an expensive gift," he explained, hoping to mitigate any appearance of a bribe.
Caroline smiled and turned her gaze to Briar. "You see how men just don't get it. Ms. Astor, you must know what I mean, right?"
Briar, caught between her boss and their guest, had to navigate carefully, ensuring neither lost face.
"It's true. I switched face creams last year and had a terrible allergic reaction. It took three visits to different dermatologists to clear it up." She used her own experience as a buffer. "Mr. Hearst's mind is always on work; he wouldn't know about these things."
Jasper chimed in, smoothing things over. "Forget Mr. Hearst, I'm even more clueless. I watch my wife at her vanity every day, and it looks like she's painting a wall. A splash of this, a dab of that… toners, serums, essences, they all look the same to me."
"Mr. Russell, if you keep talking like that about Mrs. Russell, I'll have to report back to her," Briar said with a laugh.
A small smile curved Caroline's lips. She looked back at Nash. "Mr. Hearst, I have sensitive skin. The moment I switch products, I break out, and a breakout means months of prescription medication from the doctor. I truly don't dare to change my routine. Please don't take it personally; it really isn't about the price."
With the topic brought to a graceful close, Nash conceded. "Ms. Tudor, your impeccable image is the face of the Seaside City Power Authority. If a gift from me caused an allergic reaction, my good intentions would have backfired spectacularly. We'll forget the skincare. Let's just stay in touch and keep the lines of communication open."
He handed the bag to Briar, who took it as they escorted Caroline out of the private room. When Nash went to the front desk to settle the bill, the cashier informed him it had already been paid.
"Who paid?" Nash asked, glancing back at Briar, who looked equally surprised.
The cashier indicated Caroline. "Ms. Tudor is a member here. She paid with her phone just a moment ago."
"Absolutely not," Nash said immediately, his tone firm. "I was hosting. That's unacceptable." He turned back to the cashier. "How much was it?"
Caroline gestured for the cashier to remain quiet and intercepted the conversation. "Mr. Hearst, although this was our first meeting, I've done my research on you and the history of VoltWave Cables. I admire any enterprise that has risen on the strength of its own capabilities, and I have even more respect for an industrialist like yourself, who can resurrect a company from the brink of collapse. Quality is a company's foundation, and opportunities arise because of that foundation. So, it doesn't matter who pays for this meal. What matters is that it gave me the chance to meet you."
Nash's pupils contracted. The brash, commanding aura he typically wore seemed to dissolve in an instant. As he looked at Caroline again, something flickered in his eyes—perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps her words had struck a deeper chord. He stood motionless for a beat.
"Fine," he said, his voice lower now. "I'll consider this one a debt I owe you. The next one is on me."
"Mr. Hearst," she replied, her tone polite but clear, "for any work-related matters, you are always welcome to visit me at my office. My door is always open to VoltWave Cables."
The implication was not lost on him. He understood now that securing another private dinner with her would be nearly impossible.
"How are you getting home?" He asked.
"My husband is waiting for me at the entrance," Caroline said.
"Your husband?" Nash peered out into the darkness. Beyond the soft glow of a few landscape lights, the street was empty. He chuckled. "Is he the jealous type? Worried about you?"
Caroline offered a serene smile. "He's not worried. He's just in the habit of picking me up."
Briar's eyes held a wistful look. "Ms. Tudor, you're making us all envious."
"Ms. Tudor's husband is Leopold Wipere, the manager of the Celestial Waters Hotel here in Seaside City," Jasper supplied.
Nash's brow furrowed. "Leopold?"
"Yes, that's him. Do you know him, Mr. Hearst?" Caroline asked.
Nash shook his head. "No."
The three of them walked Caroline to the front door. As she stepped outside, the headlights of a sedan in the parking area flared to life. The car glided to a stop at the bottom of the steps, and the driver got out. Caroline bid her companions farewell. "I'll be going now. Goodbye."
Leopold opened the passenger-side door, giving a brief, polite nod to the trio on the steps. His gaze then softened as it found Caroline, his lips curving into a smile that mirrored the crescent moon above. As she reached him, his hand settled naturally on the small of her back.
"Have you been waiting long?" She asked.
In the dim, shifting light, the angles of Leopold's face seemed more pronounced, softening his usual intensity and lending him an air of gentleness. "Not at all," he murmured.
As Caroline settled into the car, Jasper called out a reminder to drive safely. Leopold closed her door, offered one last nod to the group, and walked around to the driver's side.
The sedan pulled away, its taillights shrinking into the night.
Jasper's expression grew somber. "It seems she won't accept another invitation from me, either," he said to Nash.
Nash's eyes remained fixed on the disappearing car. "If she won't come to me, I'll go to her," he said, his voice laced with a new kind of determination. "She said it herself: for work, I can find her at the office."
After seeing Jasper off, Briar's designated driver arrived. As Nash walked toward his own car, with Briar following a step behind, she suddenly broke the silence.
"Are you interested in her?"
Nash's stride faltered. He stopped and shot a look over his shoulder, his brow creased in irritation. "What the hell are you talking about?"