Yvonne Finley involuntarily sucked in a cool breath, her eyes drawn irresistibly to the young man across the way, who was tilting his head back to drink. The water streaming down his throat, his Adam's apple sliding up and down ceaselessly.
The sight was undeniably alluring.
How could such a beauty lead in such a frenzied rampage?
Perhaps her gaze was too burning.
Caleb Baker, while drinking, subtly shifted his gaze. His languid, affection-filled eyes met hers, and then his lips seemed to curve slightly in amusement, as if he had caught a girl stealing glances at him. His nonchalant half-smile in that moment, Yvonne felt as if her heart had been singed.
He...
Appeared so damn captivating.
Yvonne quickly averted her gaze.
Laughing inwardly at herself for being shy in front of a youngster.
This man was clearly not old.
If it came down to age, he would be younger than her.
When had she become so spineless?
Caleb Baker finished his water, casually crumpled the paper cup, tossed it into a bin, and turned around with his hand in his pocket. His handsome face betrayed no emotion; his half-closed eyes rimmed with a touch of red from weariness, portraying an image of fatigue yet untouched by the worldly dust.
"Thanks for the hospitality. Carry on with your work," he gestured at the disposable cup in the trash bin.
"..."
"..." Polite yet impolite.
Finished speaking.
He strode away.
Only then did Yvonne let out a soft sigh of relief.
This man, while seeming effortlessly ordinary, carried an inherent charisma that was overwhelming.
After receiving some instructions from Captain Arthur Hudson, she too departed from the Criminal Investigation Team.
Upon stepping outside.
Just as she was about to get into her car.
A whistle sounded from behind.
Yvonne looked up.
At the Criminal Police Brigade entrance, a tall, slim figure leaned against the wall. He emanated an incongruous aura, nobility mixed with a touch of unruly grit. Squinting his eyes against the sun, he looked at her, his voice lazily dipped in the Eden accent, "Would you mind giving me a lift?"
Yvonne was taken aback.
She hadn't expected the lad to still be here.
Observing the surroundings, the location was somewhat remote; especially in the morning, getting a cab was difficult and the bus stop was a distance away. It was indeed inconvenient.
Perhaps moved by his attractiveness, after a few seconds of silence, Yvonne nodded, succumbing to her attraction, "Get in."
"Thank you."
Caleb Baker opened the door and entered the car.
The space inside the car was cramped.
This close confinement made the situation slightly awkward.
As Yvonne started the engine and aimed to turn around, she asked, "Where to? Or where can I drop you off?"
The man beside her had his eyes half closed, with a laid-back air about him.
"Wherever you're going, just drop me off there."
Yvonne: "..."
What on earth!
A ripple crossed her brow, she couldn't resist turning to look at him.
The guy next to her fished out a coffee-flavored candy from his pocket, tossed it into his mouth, and rested a hand on the car window. He caught her gaze and simply held it.
Yvonne: "..."
Why did his gaze feel so brazen?
Just as she was about to say something.
He extended a fist towards her.
Yvonne recalled the scene at the Criminal Investigation Team, where he casually carried a severed limb, waiting for them. She instinctively shivered, drawing back slightly.
Seeing her reaction, Caleb suddenly let out a chuckle.
The candy roll on his tongue, and his slightly raised lips appeared charming and playful.
At that moment, an involuntarily phrase bobbed up in Yvonne's mind — a thorny toxic rose.
"Want one?" Unexpectedly, he just opened his long fingers, in his palm lay a piece of coffee-flavored candy.
She felt a bit embarrassed, Yvonne: "..."
"No need, thank you." Yvonne forced a smile on her face, maintaining her composure.
Caleb withdrew his hand calmly, "I thought you were eyeing my candy."
Yvonne Finley: "...You're mistaken, I don't like sweets."
"I didn't say you had a sweet tooth."
"..."
Two seconds later.
Yvonne Finley finally understood what he meant.
She pursed her lips, "Then why did you give me sugar?"
"Coffee sugar is kind of bitter, it can help you clear your mind."
"..."
"You're very humorous." She squeezed the steering wheel, a smile lingering on her lips, not angry, just finding it...
A perfectly beautiful exterior — sadly marred by a mouth.
Caleb Baker bit into the sugar, his tone listless: "Just average."
"..."
Yvonne Finley fell silent, resigned that, despite his good looks and unconventional behavior, she was unable to react.
Having barely known each other and after exchanging a few words, they lapsed back into silence.
He said he'd go anywhere, so she decided to return to the gallery.
Twenty minutes later.
Yvonne Finley parked the car at the gallery's parking lot.
When she turned her head, Caleb Baker had already unbuckled his seat belt, raising his eyebrows at her: "Thanks for the lift, see you later."
Yvonne Finley thought his 'see you later' was just a courteous phrase, so she added: "This is Blakeley Street, you can get a taxi by walking a couple of minutes out..."
"I'm not leaving."
Yvonne Finley was puzzled.
Caleb Baker didn't say another word, he just shut the car door and made a beeline towards the gallery.
"?"
Yvonne Finley quickly got out of the car and watched as he marched straight into the gallery with clear intent.
What's happening?
Yvonne Finley locked the car. Her sprained ankle had stopped swelling and didn't prevent her from walking. After following the slate path into the gallery, she heard.
Dashton Xandra, the gallery's director's voice: "You're late. I'm sorry, but the interviews for today have already ended."
Yvonne Finley glanced inside.
Caleb Baker was standing in front of Dashton Xandra's desk, an indescribable laxity in his posture. His demeanor gave off a sense of superior grace, even in such a small space.
But his clothes were too plain, the back of the phone he was holding had no paint left and its model seemed to be from five or six years ago.
Even though he was attractive and had a good vibe.
His entire appearance could be summed up with the capitalized, bold word: POOR.
Caleb Baker turned around leisurely, as if he had perfectly timed her entrance. That pair of eyes that could make people's cheeks flush when he looked at them, looked at her: "Would you give me a chance?"
Yvonne Finley blinked, finally understanding what he meant.
"Did you know from the start that I'm the owner of this gallery?"
He was quite forthcoming: "You weren't there and that criminal police officer mentioned your identity. It just so happened that I was coming here for an interview, so I hitched a free ride."
Yvonne Finley: ...
Even before being hired, he dared to use his boss as a driver.
...How poor is he? Can't he afford the two-dollar bus fare?
This guy is quite cheeky.
However.
What kind of fate is this?
Involved in the same case, and also applying for the position of her secretary-
Dashton Xandra looked confused watching the banter between the two, "Do you two know each other?"
Yvonne Finley didn't explain: "Give him a chance."
She stepped forward, ready to join Dashton Xandra in the interview.
Her phone rang.
She glanced at the caller ID, it was her grandfather.
Her grip tightened unconsciously around the phone, Yvonne Finley lips tightened slightly, then she said to Dashton Xandra: "You assess his situation, I'm going to take a call."
Caleb Baker watched her from the corner of his eye.
After the woman disappeared from his sight, he gently touched his upper jaw with the tip of his tongue, his voice soft without fluctuation: "The internationally acclaimed Miss Rose..."
He should have recognized her identity earlier.
After all...