Lola quickly wiped her mouth clean and took the menu from her colleague. She initially planned to trot over to Mr. L, but after seeing the seductive and lazy posture of the woman sitting across from him, she hesitated, trying to recall the posture of the models on TV, and then walked over with cat-like steps.
She was wearing a light blue waitress uniform, a color that would be disastrous for a girl with honey-colored skin, yet it made her appear both innocent and charming. However, under her clumsy catwalk, this charm turned into the laughable imitation of a little girl playing with her mother's lipstick. Fortunately, she was beautiful enough that even the ridiculous seemed charming.
Lola was completely unaware of her charming ridiculousness. She walked to table A3 with her catwalk, and in the sweetest voice of her life, she asked, "Good afternoon, may I take your order now?"
Mr. L finally looked at her.
To Lola, that glance seemed like a slow-motion scene in a movie. However, his gaze didn't linger on her face; it quickly dropped as he flipped through the menu with two fingers before handing it to the woman across from him, saying, "Ladies first."
This was the first time she heard him speak—a deep, resonant voice with a perfect Oxford accent, as if there were a double bass string vibrating in his chest. Unfortunately, he said it to another woman.
She couldn't help but feel a little frustrated, then realized she had no reason to be, which made her even more frustrated.
The woman took the menu, flipping through it with her pinky finger, which was painted with red nail polish. She pointed at a picture with her index finger and said haughtily, "This one."
It was a very expensive but very small vegetable salad. Lola didn't like the woman's arrogant attitude but could only obediently jot down the salad's name.
The menu then landed in Mr. L's hands. She thought to herself, if he orders as arrogantly as she did, she wouldn't like him anymore.
To her surprise, Mr. L gave her a respectful smile and gently asked, "Do you have any red wine?"
His polite demeanor caught her off guard, causing her heartbeat to quicken: "Yes."
This time, her heartbeat was even stronger than before, almost leaping into her throat. She felt dizzy, fearing she might have another hypoglycemic episode, so she quickly took a deep breath and lowered her head to open the menu: "But we only have Burgundy and Bordeaux... and we only sell by the bottle, not by the glass."
As she spoke, she couldn't help but inwardly complain about the manager's stinginess. These wines were ridiculously expensive, each bottle costing around $180, and they only sold them by the bottle... What if Mr. L wanted a glass but couldn't afford a bottle?
Mr. L didn't care about the way the wine was sold or its high price. "Burgundy, then," he said, closing the menu and handing it to Lola, "Thank you."
She took the menu with both hands and nervously replied, "You're welcome."
As she handed the menu over to the kitchen, Lola's mind was filled with the memory of Mr. L's gentle and respectful smile. She completely forgot to imitate the catwalk of a model. For the first time, her heart was tumultuous because of a stranger; just one smile from him made her feel as if she were hearing the cicadas of a hot summer, making even her breathing feel warm. Of course, if he smiled at that woman, she would still hear the summer cicadas, but it would be like thousands of them buzzing, annoying her to the point where she would want to smash a plate into his face.
As Lola replayed childish scenarios in her mind, she also strained her ears to eavesdrop on the conversation between Mr. L and the woman. It turned out that the woman wasn't Mr. L's lover or mistress but a private secretary of a wealthy man. She had arranged to meet Mr. L in the name of the wealthy man but had yet to reveal the man's whereabouts. Ten minutes had passed, and not only had she not mentioned anything about the wealthy man's business, but she had also been continuously flirting with him.
From Lola's angle, she could see the woman had taken off her red Lucy Jane shoes and was lightly caressing the inside of Mr. L's leg with her stocking-clad toes.
Any other man would be flushed with excitement at such a sight, but Mr. L simply swirled his crystal glass and smiled coldly, "Madam, you should know how valuable my time is."
The woman, looking pitiful, replied, "Of course, I know how precious Mr. Villiers's time is... I have no intention of wasting it. I only invited you out to say thank you. The perfume you sent me smells wonderful."
So his surname was Villiers. That name sounded so familiar... Wait, was he the one who initiated contact with this woman?
Mr. L, or rather, Mr. Villiers, seemed puzzled as well. "Perfume?"
The woman opened her clutch and took out an amber-colored bottle of women's perfume. "This one. Do you not remember?"
Mr. Villiers put down his crystal glass, rested his right elbow on the table, and rubbed his temples with his fingers, as if trying hard to recall when he had given this perfume. After a long moment, he shook his head and softly said, "Sorry, I really don't remember."
The woman seemed very disappointed, sighing sadly, "You don't know how happy I was when I received this perfume. You were the entrepreneur I admired most during my student days. I watched the video of your lecture at the University of Chicago countless times... Please forgive my boldness, but if I hadn't pretended to be my boss to invite you out, I would never have had the chance to speak with you..."
Saying this, she grasped Mr. Villiers's wrist with one hand and unbuttoned two buttons on her blouse with the other, revealing her deep collarbone and cleavage. "I'm really sorry. Blame it on this perfume that should never have been given away."
So that's how it was. Lola suddenly felt extremely disappointed in Mr. L. So it was him who first gave the woman the perfume, stirring up her feelings and then waiting for her to invite him out... This way, he could take advantage of the woman while still pretending to be innocent and maintaining a facade of righteousness. Ugh, and to think she had pitied him, thinking he was the one who was wronged—shameless old man!
Just as she was about to decide that she didn't like him anymore, she heard Mr. L say lightly, "You're right; this is indeed a bottle of perfume that shouldn't have been given away."
As he finished speaking, he took the perfume from the woman's hand with a calm expression, leaving her utterly stunned: "I'm taking it back."
The woman stared at him, her expression almost comical in its shock.
Mr. L took a sip of wine and slowly asked, "Is there anything else?"
The woman was completely dumbfounded. She had used this trick to seduce many wealthy old men, but she had never encountered such a situation before. Villiers hadn't actually given her that bottle of perfume—she had bought it herself—but... was that the point? Normally, when men saw her unbuttoning her blouse, they would only think of taking her to a hotel, not, like Villiers, taking the perfume back.
Her mind was in chaos; she didn't know where she had gone wrong. She wanted to leave, but at the same time, she felt reluctant. Just then, Mr. L turned the perfume bottle in his hand and delivered the final blow: "Are you reluctant to part with this bottle of perfume?"
Upon hearing this, the woman's face and neck immediately flushed red: "...I'm not reluctant!"
She raised her voice involuntarily, drawing the attention of those around her. Feeling the curious gazes from the other patrons, she wished she could disappear into thin air. The methods that had successfully seduced so many men were completely ineffective against this old man... What noble lineage, what British gentleman—nothing but lies! This old man might look gentle and dignified, but his words were more cutting than those of a woman from the slums.
Humiliated, the woman hurriedly fastened her blouse, put on her shoes, grabbed her clutch, and left the restaurant without a word.
Mr. L showed no reaction to the woman's departure, as if he didn't regret losing what could have been a delightful encounter. He swirled his crystal glass, took a sip of wine, and spat out a single word with some mockery: "Femina..."
Lola's mother had once served an elderly professor who, in moments of great excitement, would shout, "Oh, God, Femina!" Thanks to him, Lola knew it was the Latin word for "woman." But why was Mr. L lamenting "woman"? Could it be that he didn't like women?
This thought made her a little nervous as she looked at Mr. L, fearing that he might be homosexual. When Lola was in school, she had seen many boys meeting secretly in the woods, and had also witnessed boys who were exposed as gay being called "freaks" and "monsters." She liked this man and didn't want him, at his age, to be called a "freak."
Mr. L had no idea that the young girl in front of him was worried he would be called "an old freak." He calmly finished his glass of wine and beckoned to her, "Young lady, the bill."
"Oh, okay." Lola walked over and took the money he handed her. She counted it and noticed there was an extra five dollars. Just as she was about to return it to him, he said concisely, "Tip."
Lola froze for a moment; this was the first time she had received such a large tip, and it was from someone she liked. In that moment, she couldn't help but blush to the roots of her hair, her ears burning: "Ah... thank you."
"You're welcome." He smiled slightly, stood up, adjusted his cufflinks, picked up the cane beside him, and prepared to leave. As he was about to go, he seemed to remember something and pointed to the amber-colored perfume bottle on the table: "This perfume's base notes are orange, rose, and musk. It's very suitable for a young girl like you. You should take it."
Lola blinked, not fully understanding, but before she could react, he had already turned and walked away.
A female colleague who witnessed the scene remarked sourly, "Lucky you, getting a free bottle of Penhaligon's perfume."
Lola didn't know what brand Penhaligon's was, but she could tell from her colleague's envious tone that it was an expensive perfume.
In other words, he had given her a valuable gift.
Lola inhaled, exhaled, and pressed her tongue hard against the roof of her mouth to keep from smiling. She bent her big eyes, humming a tune, feeling as happy as if she had received an extra toy in a fast-food meal. She placed the perfume bottle in her pocket and, with a smile on her face, cleaned the table until it was spotless.
She was fully aware that this might be the last time she had any interaction with Mr. L, so she treasured this bottle of perfume, even though it had been used by another woman.
That's why, when she discovered that the bottle was missing from the locker room after work, she was beyond furious.
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