Chapter 68: Night CP
It was just past one o’clock when she returned to the company.
The young receptionist was at her desk drinking milk tea. When she saw Vivian Lowell return, she handed her a cup and said, "Boss, we were all having milk tea, so we bought you a fruit tea!"
"Light ice and thirty percent sugar. Is that okay?"
Vivian Lowell took the tea, nodded in satisfaction, and said with a smile, "Thank you~ I can’t believe you remembered I don’t like milk tea and prefer fruit tea!"
"You even remembered the light ice and thirty percent sugar. Not bad, not bad~"
Hearing Vivian Lowell’s praise, the young receptionist got a little embarrassed. She scratched the back of her head and said, "Oh, it was nothing."
"Boss, you seem to be in a great mood today. Did something interesting happen at lunch?"
At the mention of lunch, Vivian Lowell nodded. Then, as if remembering something, she said, "It was the strangest thing. This afternoon, I just happened to mention to you that I was craving duck blood vermicelli soup."
"And then President Faulkner just happened to text me, saying he’d take me to eat, and we ended up having that exact soup. What a coincidence, right?"
When the young receptionist heard Vivian Lowell bring this up, a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes. She stammered, "Um... Boss!"
"The reason President Faulkner knew... I think I might have accidentally let it slip!"
The young receptionist blushed, not quite daring to look at Vivian Lowell. "Around noon today, Special Assistant Wyatt happened to ask me if you had left for the day."
"I had just been talking with you about what you were thinking of eating for lunch, so I mentioned it to Special Assistant Wyatt in passing."
"That’s probably how President Faulkner found out and took you to eat it, right?"
As she spoke, the young receptionist glanced cautiously at Vivian Lowell, then summoned her courage to lay on the flattery. "That just goes to show, President Faulkner is really good to you!"
"Boss, look! You just had a sudden craving, and President Faulkner immediately took it to heart and took you to eat it!"
"WAHHH, this is like a scene straight out of a fairy-tale CEO romance! It’s so perfect! Boss, can I ship you two as a gorgeous couple?"
"How about we call you the ’Night’ couple?"
’The Night couple?’
Vivian Lowell gave her receptionist an odd look. She suddenly had the urge to crack open the young woman’s head and see what was inside.
’Could it be that she’s been reading too many CEO novels or watching too many cheesy dramas and gotten lost in them?’
"What are you thinking!"
Vivian Lowell sighed, shattering the receptionist’s fantasy and popping all the rainbow-colored bubbles floating in front of her.
"My relationship with Julian Faulkner isn’t what you think. We’re completely platonic; there’s nothing between us. What’s this about a ’Night’ couple? I don’t think... that’s very appropriate, do you?"
The young receptionist froze on the spot, looking for all the world like ’my ship just had a bad ending.’
"..."
The young receptionist fell silent.
Vivian Lowell was about to turn and leave when she saw Julian Faulkner approaching from the elevators.
He was holding a gift bag and walking straight toward her.
’I don’t know why.’
Compared to how he looked at noon—handsome and elegant, as if bathed in a spring breeze under the sun in that small alley—he seemed much colder now.
The feeling of a god-like, unattainable man being brought down to earth was gone.
’He’s... a bit like frost.’
Vivian Lowell’s heart suddenly sank.
’He couldn’t have heard what I just said, could he?’
’But what I said wasn’t wrong! Our relationship isn’t what the receptionist thinks, it’s completely platonic!’
’We are, in fact, a married couple in name only.’
Just as Vivian Lowell was feeling so awkward she wanted to dig a hole and hide in it, Julian Faulkner stopped in front of her.
"For you."
He handed the evening gown to Vivian Lowell. Without another word, he gave her a cool glance and turned to leave.
"Thank you."
By the time Vivian Lowell said those two words, Julian Faulkner was already back in the elevator.
His pace hadn’t faltered in the slightest. Vivian Lowell didn’t even know if he had heard her thanks.
’Whatever. It’s not a big deal.’
Vivian Lowell decided not to dwell on it.
"Boss..."
But the young receptionist looked even more wounded. Her previous rainbow-colored bubbles were all gone, replaced by a dreary, grayish-black mood.
’She was heartbroken!’
"President Faulkner looked really unhappy. See, what did I tell you? My ’Night’ couple can’t have a bad ending, or President Faulkner will get upset!"
The young receptionist was very upset. She tried her best to persuade Vivian Lowell. "Boss, President Faulkner is such a great guy. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?"
"Look, he takes you to eat what you’re craving just because you mentioned it, and he even brings you gifts. There aren’t many good men like him left!"
’WAHHH, I wish I had that kind of luck!’
’I don’t need someone as good as President Faulkner, even half as good would be enough!’
"..."
Vivian Lowell sighed again and said to the receptionist in a heartfelt tone, "It’s not a bad thing to always have a yearning for love."
"But you can’t be so love-struck that you lose your head, and you can’t make love your everything, understand?"
"For me, right now, making money is the most important thing. If a woman wants to stand firm in this world and not be looked down on by anyone, she needs to have her own strength."
With that, Vivian Lowell turned and left, carrying the paper bag.
!!!
The young receptionist watched Vivian Lowell’s retreating back, so excited she nearly jumped for joy.
’My boss is so cool and assertive! She and President Faulkner really are a perfect match!’
’No, no, I have to find a little notebook and write down everything my boss just said. I’ll make it my new motto!’
Back in her office, Vivian Lowell opened the paper bag and saw the evening gown inside.
It was a long, champagne-colored evening gown with hand-sewn sequins. The quality was superb, and Vivian Lowell recognized it at a glance.
’This... this is my own design!’
Ahem.
It was an evening gown from the "Crown Jewel" collection she had designed for a foreign luxury brand under her pseudonym, Nox.
The gown was part of a limited global release.
The champagne-colored one was especially rare. ’I can’t believe Julian Faulkner had the connections to buy it.’
He had even prepared the matching jewelry for the gown. Every single piece in the set was worth at least seven figures.
All together...
The contents of this one paper bag were worth nearly a hundred million.
’As expected of the president of Faulkner Group. Only he could be this ridiculously wealthy.’
Vivian Lowell carefully packed the evening gown and the full jewelry set back up. After composing herself, she placed the paper bag on her desk, thirty centimeters away from her.
’It’ll be safe here.’
Just then, Vivian Lowell’s phone buzzed.
Vivian Lowell opened it and saw a message from Vance Wyatt.
"Ma’am, do you like the dress and jewelry? The president said that if you don’t, I should drive you out to pick something else!"
"Like it."
Vivian Lowell replied with two curt words.
’How could I not like it? I designed the whole set myself.’
’If he gave me a few dozen more sets like this, I could buy out the entire Lowell Group!’
’What would I even need to work hard for then?’
’Couldn’t I just follow Julian Faulkner around, call him ’hubby’ in a sweet voice, and let him solve all my problems?’
The moment the thought surfaced, Vivian Lowell shook her head, dismissing the "ridiculous" idea.
’No, no, no.’
’I just gave the receptionist a righteous speech about how a modern, independent woman should act. I can’t drop the ball now!’
After psyching herself up, she saw that Vance Wyatt had replied to her message.
"I’m glad you like it, Ma’am. It’s just... President Faulkner was still in a great mood when he went downstairs just now. I actually heard him humming! Ma’am, you have no idea, I nearly fell out of my chair!"
"It was so shocking! But when President Faulkner came back, he was stone-faced again."
"Ma’am, did you two have a fight?"
"Ma’am, I don’t mean to pry, I’m just asking out of concern. If it’s inconvenient to say, that’s fine too!"
Reading Vance Wyatt’s string of messages, Vivian Lowell could almost picture his cautious expression as he typed them.
Julian Faulkner humming.
Stone-faced.
...
’Vance Wyatt really is a "Special Assistant,"’ Vivian Lowell thought. ’His observations of Julian Faulkner are spot on.’
"He and I..."
Vivian Lowell hesitated, still trying to figure out how to explain what had just happened, when there was another commotion at the company’s entrance.