Chapter 61: What, you want to come in and wash together too?
"You want to ask questions too?"
As Caroline Whitman turned her head, her wrist was tugged downward, causing her to lose her balance and fall onto the sofa, less than two hands’ widths away from him.
"I never said I’d answer those questions," she said shamelessly.
"Got a guilty conscience?"
Those three words got Caroline Whitman fired up again. She scoffed and accepted the challenge. "Me, have a guilty conscience? Go ahead, ask!"
With her permission, Adrian Grant began. "How many relationships have you been in?"
Caroline Whitman said bashfully, "Same as you."
Adrian Grant asked again, "First kiss?"
Without batting an eye, Caroline Whitman replied, "Same as you."
"Someone you hate?"
"Your nephew, Matthew Grant."
"It seems he’s done quite a few things to make you hate him." Adrian Grant wasn’t angry; on the contrary, he seemed rather curious.
Speaking of which, Caroline Whitman said with a scornful laugh, "What? You don’t know what kind of person your nephew is? His character is absolutely vile. I’m surprised the Grant Group hasn’t gone bankrupt with someone like him in management. Your family fortune must be truly immense."
Adrian Grant explained, "I was abroad most of those years and had little contact with the collateral branches of the family. As for his character, that’s not under my purview. I don’t have the time to discipline their children."
Caroline Whitman thought for a moment. "That makes sense. There was one year in college when that guy was unusually well-behaved. Thinking back, it seems to have been the year you were here as an exchange student."
Adrian Grant’s brow furrowed slightly. "Did he bully you at school?"
"Not exactly bullying, just... nauseating. But it’s normal that you wouldn’t know. Your exchange program had already ended by then. One Valentine’s Day, he gave me a box of chocolates. I turned him down. Not long after, rumors started spreading around school that I was desperately throwing myself at him, chasing him and giving him gifts, only to be rejected."
Caroline Whitman felt a bit thirsty after speaking. When she looked down to grab her cup, she realized he still hadn’t let go of her hand. She had no choice but to use her other hand to pick up the glass of water from the table and take a sip to soothe her throat.
"You didn’t clear things up?"
"When you’re dealing with shit, even beating him up could be twisted into a crime of passion. If it were you, would you argue with a piece of shit?"
Adrian Grant pondered for a moment, then briefly explained how he had dealt with Matthew Grant.
"After that incident, I had him leave the company and sent him abroad."
Being sent abroad where he could no longer interfere in company affairs was the most devastating blow for that branch of the family.
Caroline Whitman set down her cup, raised the wrist he was holding, and dangled it leisurely. "Can President Grant let go now?"
"I had no idea you had a habit of grabbing people’s hands and not letting go when you’re drunk."
Most people would have let go immediately after being called out so bluntly, but Adrian Grant just smiled, his grip remaining firm. "No rush. I’m not done asking."
"Have you met anyone recently who’s made your heart skip a beat?"
Adrian Grant cut straight to the chase, moving directly to the next question.
Caroline Whitman’s heart skipped a beat, but looking at his flawless face, she answered without a change in expression, "No."
She paused. "You’ve gone over the limit. I only asked you three questions."
Adrian Grant: "You can ask me too."
So, Caroline Whitman actually repeated his question.
Adrian Grant’s gaze fell, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at the slender wrist in his grasp. "I don’t know if this counts as my heart skipping a beat. When I’m sure, I’ll tell you."
With that, he let go of her hand and stood up, adding, "Get some rest."
Caroline Whitman subconsciously grabbed his hand. "Who is it?"
Adrian Grant looked down at her, tilting his head. "The questions are over."
"You’re being shameless."
"It’s perfectly fair. You asked me four, I asked you four."
Finally, he glanced at the cup on the coffee table. "Finish the honey water. You’ll feel better."
With that, he pulled his hand away and walked toward his room.
But unexpectedly, Caroline Whitman caught up to him in a few steps, walking beside him and firing off a series of questions with her head tilted:
"When did this happen? Did you meet her on your recent business trip?"
"Doesn’t our agreement state that we’re not to get involved with anyone else while we have the child? Why are you breaking the rules?"
"Are you going to break the contract?"
"Are you going to abandon the child?"
"Answer me."
Caroline Whitman pressed him relentlessly, following him into the room, watching as he grabbed his pajamas, and right up to the bathroom door.
Just as he was about to close the door, Adrian Grant suddenly looked up, his tone laced with amusement:
"What, you want to come in and wash up with me?"
"..."
Caroline Whitman almost let the word "Sure" slip out.
Unfortunately, his last words had sobered her up completely, clearing her head, so her tongue couldn’t outrun her thoughts.
"I’m not coming in, but you have to answer me first." Caroline Whitman braced herself against the doorframe, domineeringly holding the door open.
A faint, unreadable smile touched the corners of Adrian Grant’s lips.
"I haven’t broken the contract, nor have I felt my heart skip a beat for any other woman."
Caroline Whitman stared straight into his eyes, turning the sentence over in her mind. Seizing the moment she was distracted, Adrian Grant shut the door.
Leaving her frozen outside the door for several seconds.
After her brain finished a full reading comprehension exercise on that sentence, she blinked hesitantly.
’What does he mean by that?’
’What did he mean by that?’
’What does he mean, he hasn’t felt his heart skip a beat for any other woman?’
’Was he just teasing me earlier?’
Several possibilities flashed through her mind, until a final, greater possibility emerged.
After previously falling for the classic delusion, ’He’s jealous,’ Caroline Whitman now found herself entertaining another one of life’s famous grand illusions.
’He likes me.’
The sound of the shower starting inside the bathroom finally brought Caroline Whitman back to her senses. Her cheeks burning, she took two steps back and mechanically turned to leave.
She returned to the master bedroom, took a shower in a daze, and didn’t take a single step out of the room again until she was lying in bed.
「3:00 AM」
She still wasn’t sleepy and spent a long time tossing and turning in bed.
She was past the drowsiest stage of being drunk and now couldn’t sleep at all.
Coupled with Adrian Grant’s deliberately unsettling words that sent her mind racing, she found it even harder to fall asleep.
’What on earth did he mean? What did he really mean?’
’What was he trying to say?’
To calm herself down, she could only try to think the worst of him. ’This guy has ulterior motives. He definitely said all that on purpose.’
She pulled the covers over her head, trying hard to block out everything related to Adrian Grant.
It wasn’t until five in the morning that Caroline Whitman finally closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
「The Whitman Manor」
At 8:30 in the morning, Franklin Whitman had just gotten up and come downstairs for breakfast when he received Jonathan Grant’s medical report.
Jonathan Grant: "Mr. Whitman, take a look. This is a medical report from a proper hospital. My wife and I are perfectly fine."
Franklin Whitman sent a voice message: "Mr. Grant, you certainly work fast."
Jonathan Grant: "Of course. So, how about it? Are you and the child free today?"
Franklin Whitman: "We’re free, yes, but I’ll ask the child in a bit to see if he’s willing to go. We’re having breakfast right now. I’ll contact you later."
Yolanda Young was spooning porridge for the child while looking at Franklin Whitman. "Who was that?" she asked curiously. "Was that Jonathan Grant asking you out again?"
"Who else? He said he wants to see my god-grandson, so I told him to get a medical report to check for any infectious diseases. And he actually went and did it."
Franklin Whitman laughed. It was quite incredible.
"That’s strange," Yolanda Young added. "Jonathan Grant’s wife, Gloria Lawson, has also been asking me to go out and play mahjong or go shopping lately."
"Hey," Franklin Whitman said upon hearing this. "Do you think this means good news is on the horizon for those two kids? Maybe their side has already heard something?"
Yolanda Young agreed. "It’s very possible."
Franklin Whitman was delighted. He looked at the little guy who was holding a spoon and gulping down his porridge. "That Mr. Grant doesn’t have any infectious diseases," he asked. "He invited us over to his house to play. Do you want to go?"