Chapter 151 Love at First Sight
"Cindy, I'm burning up."
After soaking in the cold tub for thirty minutes, Zachary emerged shivering but with his face flushed bright red. Quinley frowned and pressed her hand to his forehead. Definitely feverish.
"Put your clothes on. I'm taking you to the hospital."
She tried helping him dress, but Zachary wasn't cooperating. "I'm so tired. Just want to sleep."
He kept slumping backward. It took all her strength to get his clothes on. She called Lucas, who was already driving back to Rosewood City.
"Mr. Jennings has a fever? How did he suddenly get sick?"
Lucas sounded confused. But Quinley didn't explain. Even dressed, Zachary felt freezing and refused to leave the warmth of the blankets. She had no choice but to wait for Lucas.
An hour later, he arrived. With his strength, Lucas managed to haul Zachary upright. Together they half-carried him out the door.
At the hospital, Zachary was quickly hooked up to an IV.
"The doctor says he caught a chill. What happened?"
Lucas pressed for details. Quinley couldn't exactly tell him the truth about that morning's awkward situation.
"He kicks off his covers at night when he sleeps."
The lie came easily. Lucas studied her with disapproval flickering in his eyes.
"Mr. Jennings isn't fully recovered yet. He can't afford to get sick."
"I understand."
Zachary slept while Quinley sat beside his bed, watching the IV drip. Lucas was swamped with work—his phone rang constantly, sending him in and out of the room.
The last person Quinley expected to see was Adela.
"Mr. Murphy, sorry to bother you, but these documents need Mr. Jennings' immediate attention and signature."
She hurried toward the room carrying a thick stack of files. Quinley was still seated by Zachary's bedside when Adela walked in and spotted her immediately.
"What are you doing here?"
Suspicion clouded Adela's expression. Quinley stood up without answering.
"I'll get Mr. Jennings some water."
She grabbed the water bottle and escaped. Inside the room, Adela's confusion turned to irritation as she turned to Lucas.
"Mr. Murphy, what exactly is Cindy's relationship with Mr. Jennings? Didn't he fire her? Why is she here?"
Lucas's expression darkened. He wasn't about to spill everything.
"Mr. Jennings made his arrangements clear. You and I both know not to question what we shouldn't."
They were Zachary's closest staff. Challenging his decisions wasn't their place.
Adela was usually composed, but now she looked anything but calm. "She's completely new here. Does Mr. Jennings even know her? We should be more careful about these things."
Her tone was reasonable, professional concern. But Lucas wasn't buying it.
"I'll show him these documents when he wakes up. You can head back—I'll drop them off later."
Adela didn't budge. "I'd like to wait until he's awake."
"Ms. Gomez, do you realize what you're doing?"
Lucas's voice sharpened with anger. Just then, Quinley returned with the water. She'd left specifically to avoid confrontation, but Adela seemed determined to force one.
"Cindy, come here. I need to ask you something."
Adela headed for the door. Quinley set down the water bottle and started to follow, but Lucas caught her arm.
"Don't say anything you shouldn't."
"I know."
Quinley walked to where Adela stood by the corridor window.
"Ms. Gomez, what do you want to know?"
Her tone stayed level and polite. Adela crossed her arms, displeasure written across her face.
"What exactly are you to Mr. Jennings?"
Adela used to manage Zachary's entire schedule. She knew everyone he met, everything he did. But since his accident, she'd been completely shut out. She couldn't even get close to him anymore.
Meanwhile, this ordinary-looking woman had somehow become his favorite.
"Ms. Gomez, we're both just doing jobs we're paid for. Different work, but the same basic arrangement."
Quinley met her gaze calmly. The jealousy burning in Adela's eyes was unmistakable.
This wasn't the Adela from Quinley's memory—quiet, low-key, never competing with anyone. Maybe time changed people. Or maybe it just revealed who they really were.
Adela let out a cold laugh. "We're not the same at all. I'm Mr. Jennings' legitimate chief secretary. But you? Cindy, do you even know what your position is?"
The laugh hit like a slap. Quinley didn't flinch.
"Of course I know. It's you who seems confused. If there's nothing else, I need to get back to Mr. Jennings."
She turned toward the room. Adela actually followed her.
"Mr. Jennings doesn't need you taking care of him. There are nurses for that. What business does some cleaning lady have looking after him?"
She'd reached the doorway, practically cornering Quinley. That's when Zachary woke up.
His dark eyes cut toward Adela like blades. She froze, then pushed past Quinley to reach his bedside.
"Mr. Jennings, you're awake?"
After all this time, she finally had a chance to face him directly. But to her disappointment, his gaze shifted from her to Quinley.
"Cindy, come here."
He gestured for her to approach. Adela's jaw dropped, literally hanging open in shock.
Zachary's tone was so gentle, so affectionate. They were... what exactly?
She didn't want to think about it, but couldn't stop herself. Impossible. The thought hit her immediately.
That woman was so ordinary, so completely wrong for someone like Zachary—tall, handsome, wealthy.
"You two..."
Adela wanted to ask but couldn't form the words. Zachary looked positively smug.
"You want to know our relationship? Fine, I'll tell you. Cindy is my girlfriend. It was love at first sight."
The announcement hit like a bomb. Quinley stared in shock—she couldn't believe he was spouting nonsense in front of people again.
Adela was equally stunned. How could Zachary possibly be interested in such an ordinary woman? She studied Quinley critically—slightly overweight, plain features, that scar on her forehead, hair styled in the most boring way possible.
"If there's nothing else, you should go. I need to rest."
Zachary's dismissal was final. This time, Adela had no choice but to leave.
Her face cycled through shades of red and white. "Mr. Jennings, please take care of yourself."
She retreated from the room, seething with resentment.
"Why did you say that?"
Now it was Quinley's turn to be angry. She'd warned him not to say things like that in front of other people without permission.
"Cindy, are you mad at me again?"
Zachary blinked those innocent eyes, gazing at her with pure adoration.
"I really do like you. Don't you want me to like you?"
"Stop right there!"
Quinley held up her hand like a traffic cop. "Zachary, don't forget—you're eight years old. I'm twenty-five. I'm not going to accept romantic feelings from some little kid."
The air went dead silent.