The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 398

Hans took a quick break to change into his second outfit.

He walked over, tall and easygoing. “Parrish, what brings you here?”

Then he slid his arm over Petty’s shoulders like they were just two close friends.

Parrish’s gaze drifted from Petty’s shoulder, his voice casual. “First time back at work since you got hurt. Just wanted to check in. You doing okay?”

“Better than ever.” Hans tapped his fingers gently on Petty’s shoulder as if exchanging a secret signal.

Petty caught on right away. She grabbed his thermos from her bag, popped the lid, and held it up to his mouth.

Hans didn’t bother to take it himself. He just leaned down, sipped from the straw for a couple seconds, then straightened up. Petty closed the lid and tucked the thermos back into her bag.

Her thoughtfulness made Hans grin. He looked over at Parrish. “My assistant for the day. Not bad, right?”

Parrish gave Petty a quick glance. “She’s great.”

While Hans went off to change in the dressing room, Petty found a spot by the fireplace. She ate her baked sweet potato slowly, savoring each bite with a spoon.

The days were getting warmer. According to the forecast, Cabinda’s winter would be over by next week.

Inside the dressing room, the stylist fussed over Hans’s clothes, adjusting a collar here, a sleeve there. Hans looked over at Parrish, who sat sprawled on the sofa, flipping lazily through a magazine.

“You can go work on something else for now,” Hans said to the stylist.

Once they were alone, Hans dropped onto the sofa in his usual relaxed sprawl. “So, what’s so important you had to show up in person?”

Parrish didn’t look up. “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me, so why ask at all?”

Parrish was silent for a few seconds. He closed his magazine, looked at Hans’s stomach, and said quietly, “Take care of yourself. Don’t risk your life so easily.”

Back by the fireplace, Petty scrolled through the news absentmindedly, her spoon pausing in the sweet potato. She paused when a familiar pen name caught her eye. Malvina. A senior from university, and now a freelance journalist. She’d always used that name, even back in college.

Petty smiled to herself. Malvina had actually made it. One of her international reports had gone viral.

Suddenly Petty remembered that freelance journalists could even go to war zones.

The world was tense now. Not only Everell, but Aurelia too was caught up in conflict.

The road to Everell was blocked for her by Franco. So she needed another plan.

She’d just quit her job. Becoming a freelance journalist seemed like the perfect next step. She wouldn’t be tied down to any organization. No matter where she went, she could keep doing what she loved.