Chapter 36 Buying Clothes

Chapter 36 Buying Clothes

Sophie handed him the water glass, her tone resigned. "Stanley, I can't keep depending on you."

Stanley looked at her with clear disapproval. "I just can't stand watching you work yourself to death. You're a secretary, for God's sake, and you have to follow your boss all over the country. This trip to A City—you didn't eat properly again, did you?"

The mention of A City made Sophie's hand pause mid-pour, barely noticeable.

Stanley's sharp eyes caught the shift in her expression immediately.

He thought of Sebastian standing outside the building this morning, and a suspicion began to form.

"Does Sebastian live around here?" he asked, keeping his tone casual.

"No." Sophie shook her head, offering no further explanation.

Stanley saw her obvious evasion and sighed inwardly before changing the subject. "I heard through the grapevine that Sebastian was in a car accident in A City recently. You were in the car with him?"

Sophie's face went pale.

Seeing her reaction, Stanley's heart sank, his voice turning serious. "Were you hurt?"

"No, just some scrapes. They've already healed." Sophie rushed to explain, not wanting him to worry.

But Stanley's expression only grew darker. He set down his water glass and stood, his tone more firm than she'd ever heard it. "That's it. You're done with this job. It's too dangerous."

He looked at her thin face and the exhaustion that never seemed to leave her eyes, his chest tightening with concern.

"Don't argue with me. I'm making you something to eat right now. Look at you—you obviously haven't been eating properly." Stanley headed straight for the kitchen and opened the refrigerator with practiced ease.

It was nearly empty. Just a few bottles of water and a carton of eggs.

He shook his head in exasperation and grabbed the breakfast he'd brought. "Forget it. Eat this first, and I'll hit the grocery store later."

Sophie watched him bustle around, warmth spreading through her chest.

"Stanley, I can do it myself."

"Sit down and stay put." Stanley arranged a bowl of mild oatmeal porridge and several delicate side dishes on the dining table, then went to the kitchen to wash his hands before starting on the fresh ingredients he'd brought.

He was usually methodical about everything, but today he seemed distracted.

As he turned to grab seasoning, his elbow knocked into an open bottle of soy sauce.

Dark brown liquid splashed out instantly, splattering across his chest.

The light gray cashmere sweater bloomed with a large, dark stain.

Sophie gasped and rushed over with paper towels. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Stanley looked down at the mess with chagrin. "But this sweater's done for."

Sophie stared at the obvious stain, knowing it would never come out.

She grabbed Stanley's arm, barely thinking before she said, "Forget about it. Let's go out right now. I'll buy you a new one."

Stanley couldn't refuse her, his eyes holding a hint of indulgent resignation as she pulled him out the door.

They went to the upscale shopping center right below the apartment building.

Sophie examined everything carefully, her fingertips brushing across different fabrics, comparing colors and cuts with the same focus she brought to important project proposals.

Stanley stood beside her, watching with a smile.

He understood Sophie's nature—she seemed fragile on the surface, but she had a core of steel.

Whatever she committed to, she'd see through to perfection, whether it was work or something as simple as choosing a sweater for a friend.

In the end, Sophie selected a cashmere sweater similar in style to Stanley's original but from a more quietly luxurious brand, and insisted on paying for it herself.

"Stanley, consider it my apology for ruining your clothes." She pressed the shopping bag into his arms, her tone brooking no argument.

Stanley looked at her, warmth flooding his chest, and didn't push back.

He knew this was how she showed care and maintained relationships—independent and genuine.

After seeing Sophie off, Stanley sat in his car but didn't start the engine right away.

He glanced down at his new sweater, then thought back to that morning encounter downstairs, to the flash of hostility in those ice-blue eyes.

He pulled out his phone, called his assistant with brief instructions, then drove toward Carter Group headquarters downtown.

Meanwhile, Sebastian had returned to the office, and the air pressure in the executive suite was dangerously low.

He sat behind his massive desk, his expression glacial.

The documents in front of him were all urgent matters, but he couldn't focus on a single word. His mind kept replaying that scene outside the apartment building this morning.

Stanley's warm smile, that steaming insulated container, the easy familiarity in the way he'd looked up at the building—every frame stabbed at him like ice picks, leaving him raw and restless.

What was their relationship?

Why was Stanley bringing her breakfast at dawn?

That kind of intimacy and ease wasn't something ordinary friends shared.

This unfamiliar emotion spread like wildfire through his chest, tightening until it was hard to breathe.

Just then, the intercom buzzed. Aiden's respectful voice came through. "Mr. Carter, Mr. Worden from Worden Group is here. He says he wants to discuss a potential collaboration. Should I…"

Stanley?

Sebastian's fingers tightened around his pen until his knuckles went white.

What the hell was he doing here?

Rage surged through him. He almost snapped "I'm not seeing him," but the words died in his throat.

He wanted to see what game this man was playing.

"Send him in." Sebastian's voice was cold enough to freeze the air.

Soon, a knock sounded on the office door. Stanley walked in wearing the light gray cashmere sweater he'd just bought, that gentle smile still on his face as if their brief standoff this morning had never happened.

"Mr. Carter, sorry to drop in unannounced."

Sebastian didn't stand. He just lifted his chin, gesturing toward the sofa across from him, his tone distant. "Mr. Worden. What can I do for you?"

Stanley didn't seem bothered by the cold reception. He placed a folder on the coffee table and spoke calmly. "Regarding the development of that plot in Riverside District—I have a new concept I'd like to run by you."

He laid out his business proposal methodically, his logic clear and his manner earnest.

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, ice-blue eyes studying him, but his mind was nowhere near the project.

He could tell immediately that Stanley's sweater was new. The soft texture and color made him look even more refined and approachable.

That sweater...