Chapter 33: A Blind Date Arranged for Adrian
Franklin Whitman suddenly recalled the day he told Caroline Whitman about the blind date with Adrian Grant. Her reaction had been unusually calm; she’d even agreed with a nod, without any protest.
Although Caroline’s excuse at the time was that it was hard to refuse due to their business partnership, they had a similar partnership with Chase Ford.
Compared to her attitude when he had tried to set her up with Chase Ford, it was a night and day difference.
’Hmph, that silly girl.’
’She’s hiding her thoughts quite well.’
「The Grant Ancestral Home.」
Jonathan Grant had just finished reading the day’s news when his phone buzzed with a message from Gavin Grant.
’That old man hasn’t messaged me in ages. For him to be in the mood today... something must be up, right?’
He tapped it open and saw that Gavin Grant had sent several pictures in a row.
He zoomed in to take a closer look.
His old eyes widened in shock!
’Is that really my son in the photo?!’
’Could this woman be the mother of his child?!’
As several waves of speculation crashed through Jonathan Grant’s mind, another message arrived from Gavin Grant:
[The blind date I arranged for Adrian.]
[Looks like your son isn’t such a blockhead who’s immune to women after all.]
Just then, Grace Lawson pushed the door open, clearly having come in a state of shock after being bombarded by Gavin Grant’s messages herself.
"Jonathan, what’s going on?"
"Adrian actually agreed to a blind date?"
"And they were hugging?"
"Is our son really that thoughtful?"
"Do you think she could be the mother of his child?"
While Grace Lawson rattled off her string of questions, Jonathan Grant had already picked up the phone to find out what was happening.
After a brief inquiry, he learned that this was the blind date Adrian Grant had chosen himself.
He had picked Caroline Whitman from among numerous photos.
Adrian Grant was his son; how could he not know the boy’s personality? If there wasn’t someone he liked among the photos, he would never have made a random compromise, not even if the old man himself had forced him.
Now, the elderly couple had only one question: was Caroline Whitman really the one who gave birth to the child?
So, Jonathan Grant made a call and had someone investigate Caroline Whitman.
—
Adrian Grant opened the car door, placed her in the passenger seat, then closed it and returned to the driver’s side.
As he started the car, he glanced at the rearview mirror. No one was following them.
"Do you want to go back to Azure Heights?" Adrian Grant asked.
"Let’s just go straight back to Brocade Bay. I don’t think my dad would be bored enough to follow your car."
After speaking, Caroline Whitman glanced at the rearview mirror and casually asked, "Your grandfather isn’t following you, is he? On second thought, you should just take me back to Azure Heights, and you can go back to The Seraphic."
Adrian Grant replied, "He already saw me come out to meet you. He doesn’t have the time to waste on watching me take you home."
"So you’re going back to Brocade Bay too?"
"Yes. Since you’re going back too, there’s no need to make an extra trip."
And so, the car headed toward Brocade Bay.
They drove in silence.
She had been in Adrian Grant’s car a few times before. It was always quiet, with no music or radio, silent except for the sounds of traffic from outside.
A sudden ring broke the tranquility inside the car.
Caroline Whitman picked up her phone and saw it was Franklin Whitman.
She tapped to answer, and Franklin Whitman’s voice came from the other end. "Home yet?"
Caroline Whitman immediately perked up. "On the way. Are you heading to my place?"
Franklin Whitman immediately understood the implication, thinking his daughter was subtly warning him not to ruin their time together.
So he hurriedly said, "Nope, not going."
Hearing this, Caroline Whitman felt much more relieved.
But unexpectedly, the very next second, Franklin Whitman’s booming voice came through the earpiece again, catching her completely off guard:
"Is that Adrian Grant the guy you said you liked before?"
In the car, which had no music or radio playing, Franklin Whitman’s voice from the earpiece was exceptionally jarring at that moment.
Caroline Whitman quickly pressed and held the volume-down button, frantically glancing at Adrian Grant out of the corner of her eye. Seeing that his gaze was fixed on the road ahead, she breathed a sigh of relief and replied with a deadpan expression, "No, Dad! I have to go!"
"Hey, hey, wait! Come back to the old house tomorrow for the weekend. If you don’t, your mother and I will come see you," Franklin Whitman said hastily.
"I know."
Caroline Whitman hung up.
Her mind was now completely filled with Franklin Whitman’s question.
Fighting back her embarrassment, she turned her head to look out the window, using its reflection to watch Adrian Grant’s reaction as all sorts of speculation flashed through her mind.
’Did he hear that?’
’Is he going to misunderstand?’
’Should I explain?’
’But if I suddenly try to explain, won’t that just make me look guiltier?’
This was definitely one of the most embarrassing days of her life.
’If I’d known this would happen, I never would have agreed to Adrian Grant’s invitation to be his shield.’
’My image... ugh, forget it. My image was already ruined a long time ago.’
Caroline Whitman decided to just close her eyes and play dead.
Unexpectedly, Adrian Grant’s voice suddenly sounded beside her ear. "Do you want to go back to Azure Heights?"
"No need. I’ll just go back to my family’s old house tomorrow."
"Okay."
The car fell silent again.
The silence lasted until the car came to a smooth stop in the parking garage and the engine was cut.
Adrian Grant got out and closed his door.
Caroline Whitman unbuckled her seatbelt as well, opened her door, and extended a delicate foot, intending to walk back barefoot, when a large, warm hand grasped her ankle.
Caroline Whitman’s body stiffened, and she looked up at the man who was slightly bent over in front of her.
"It’s not that much farther."
"Thank you. I’ll have to trouble you, then."
Caroline Whitman agreed with almost no hesitation, her hands already reaching out to naturally wrap around the man’s neck.
This forward and unreserved posture inexplicably reminded Adrian Grant of the night Caroline Whitman had actively forced a kiss on him.
He skillfully lifted her into a steady embrace, reached out to close the car door, and spoke in a deep voice, his tone carrying a rare hint of teasing. "I thought you would refuse."
Caroline Whitman retorted, "Do I need to be polite with you?"
Adrian Grant was surprised; he hadn’t expected her to say that.
"You have a point. There’s really no need to be polite."
...
Adrian Grant carried her into the elevator and through the front door.
Miss King had just finished cleaning the kitchen and was walking out when she saw Adrian Grant carrying Caroline Whitman through the door, a sight that surprised her slightly.
’Now this is a rare sight.’
She came here every day to cook and care for the child and had seen the couple at home together before. To be honest, they always acted like they barely knew each other.
But if you said they weren’t close, why did Adrian Grant stay over every night?
And if you said they were close, why did they seem to sleep in separate rooms?
Pushing her thoughts aside, Miss King hurried forward with a smile.
"Sir, Madam, you’re back."
"Mm." Once inside, Adrian Grant set her down.
Caroline Whitman bent down to get a pair of slippers from the shoe cabinet and glanced at the clock on the wall.
It was ten o’clock.
She asked, "Is the child asleep?"
Miss King replied, "I put him to sleep at nine-thirty."
Now that they were both back, she could go home for the day.
’This is so much more relaxed than working at the main residence.’
Before leaving, Miss King suddenly remembered something and quickly reported to Adrian Grant:
"Oh, right. Butler Carson called me a little while ago. He asked if I was working over at The Seraphic now, and I said yes."
Adrian Grant asked, "What else did he ask?"