Phoebe's cheeks flushed a soft pink. "No, that's not it."
Angie kept silent, her eyes crinkled with a knowing smile. Despite the playful banter, Angie felt a deep tenderness for her dear friend.
Phoebe, the second daughter of the prestigious Alonso Corporation, should've had an easy life, pampered and carefree. However, beneath the glitter and glamour, her life bore none of such characteristics. She was always in the shadow of her sister Wendy, and the Alonso family lavished all their attention and affection on the elder sibling, leaving Phoebe to grow up almost wild.
No one noticed when Phoebe excelled academically, no one cared when she was bullied, and no one was there to comfort her when she was sad. That guy was the only one Phoebe had ever really opened up to, and even those memories were pitifully few.
Phoebe couldn't forget the genuine happiness and longing in her heart every time she mentioned him. He was someone who could make her cry on purpose, only to turn around and buy her a lollipop, coaxing her back to happiness.
Their encounters were few, but Phoebe remembered one long-ago summer under a towering oak tree when that cute boy had told her, "When you're bullied, just cry. Don't hold back the hurt and the tears. It's only when you cry that they'll stop picking on you, and others will notice you. And it's only when you cry that I'll know it's time to give you a lollipop."d2
Those days were limited to that one summer. Still, those memories were enough for Phoebe to cling to through many subsequent summers.
However, the boy who told her to cry never knew that since that summer, Phoebe had never tasted another lollipop. And no one ever cared enough about her tears to give her any attention or comfort.
Phoebe was naturally reserved, gentle, and even a bit naïve. It was only around Angie that she'd let loose, occasionally showing a quirky side and a penchant for mischief. Anyone could see she was the kind of girl who seemed to need protection and a sense of security. She was like a crybaby who couldn't handle any wrongs done to her, but tears were rarely seen in her eyes. She hardly ever let them fall.
Tears wouldn't bring her that lollipop.
"Phoebe," Angie's voice broke through her reverie, "I heard there's a new café-bookshop hybrid that just opened nearby. Even our professors say it's a good spot. There's a seminar coming up. How about we check it out? I heard they've got several cozy themes going on there."
Phoebe's interest piqued. "Sounds great."
The two strolled side by side toward the school, oblivious to the blue Lamborghini nearby whose window rolled down, the man inside watching them before driving off.
Exiting the bookshop later that afternoon, Angie and Phoebe were still buzzing with the pleasant atmosphere they'd left behind.
"This place is quite a find, isn't it? I haven't enjoyed reading in such a relaxed environment in ages. What did you think?"
Phoebe nodded with a smile. "The selection was great. I even found a book I'd been searching for."
Angie looked proud. "This chain's been around for years. I heard it was started by Chloe’s mother, back when she was in college."
Phoebe was impressed. "That's amazing."
Angie nodded, "You know the saying, 'Like mother, like daughter'? Seeing how successful Chloe is, it's no wonder her mom is impressive too."
As they walked and talked, Angie received a phone call requiring her to return home. Phoebe knew the Harper family had been through some tumult but didn't know the details. Angie hurried to the waiting car, her expression troubled.
After Angie was gone, Phoebe continued toward the school alone. She hadn't gone far when a striking blue sports car pulled up beside her. She shifted aside warily as the window rolled down, revealing a young woman draped in faux fur and sporting a chic makeup look.
Phoebe recognized her from the school. This woman was known among some students for her flashy style and the rumors that she had a sugar daddy.
"Hey there," the woman greeted.
"Can I help you?" Phoebe replied, cautious.
They had no real connection, but the woman looked puzzled and turned to the driver. A face familiar to Phoebe then leaned out.
"Phoebe?" he greeted her with a grin.
Phoebe's eyebrows knitted together, her wariness intensifying. "Mr. Grayson?"
Grayson couldn't help but chuckle at her guarded demeanor. "No need to be so formal, Phoebe. Call me Grayson."
Phoebe didn't have a favorable first impression of him at the hospital. Now, it seemed that he probably had toned down the mischievous air he displayed in the hospital.
Casting a glance at the woman in the passenger seat, Phoebe couldn't think of anything positive to say about Grayson. He was the epitome of a playboy.
Thinking back to the lies they spun at the hospital, as Azriel's girlfriend, she couldn't possibly show any displeasure towards Azriel’s buddy today.
"Heh," she forced a laugh, "What a coincidence."
"Yeah, heading back to campus? Hop in, I'll give you a ride."
"No, thanks," Phoebe declined without hesitation. "I'm actually heading home."
"Sure thing." Grayson said, then turned to his passenger, "Get out and walk back. You've got legs, so use 'em."
The woman pouted, protesting weakly.
Phoebe felt a wave of disgust but Grayson's expression suddenly turned icy, "Get out when I tell you to, and don't push your luck."
Startled, the woman quickly gathered her shopping bags—each one emblazoned with a designer logo—and left, casting a lingering look at Grayson. "I'll be waiting for your call tonight."
Grayson responded noncommittally before turning back to Phoebe, "C'mon, I'll drive you home."
Phoebe was speechless. This guy was persistent. And from the look of it, he wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Actually, I just remembered I left something back at the school..."
Grayson chuckled, "No worries. I'll swing by the school with you to grab your stuff, and then I'll drop you off at home." This time, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, gallantly opening the door for her.
Phoebe sighed, "Well, thanks, I guess."
"Anytime."
With no other option, Phoebe braced herself and got into the car. "Let's just skip the school and head home."
Grayson let out a soft laugh, "Sure thing. Where do you live these days?"
Grayson's question seemed natural enough.
"I'm staying with Azriel right now." Phoebe was quick to bring up Azriel whenever she could, unsure of what kind of mischief might be on Grayson's mind.
Silence fell in the car for a moment, "You're living together?"
Phoebe sensed a chilling tone in Grayson's voice, "Is there a problem?"
Grayson glanced her way with a slight smirk, "No problem. Just surprised that Azriel moved so fast."
Phoebe forced out an awkward chuckle.
"It's still early. How about I treat you to something to eat first?"
"I can't. I need to head back and cook dinner."
"How lovely. Well, how about a coffee then?"
Phoebe furrowed her brows.
"I think you've got the wrong idea about me, Phoebe. I should really explain myself, and I hope you'll give me the chance."
"I have no misconceptions about you."
"Don't you?"
Phoebe was at a loss for words. The man just didn't take a hint.
Soon, the car pulled up outside a swanky lounge, a regular haunt for Grayson by the looks of it. As they approached, a server greeted them with a smile. "Good to see you, Mr. Grayson." Clearly, he was a familiar face here.
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