Lola felt a bit uneasy as she glanced at Mr. L. What did "normal girl's clothes" mean? Was he implying that she wasn't a normal girl?
She sat down opposite Mr. L, trying hard to recall the ladylike posture she had read about in a book, but her mind went blank. She remembered that book mentioned how the English use knives and forks differently from Americans... but she couldn't remember how exactly. For a moment, she didn't even dare pick up the utensils.
In the end, it was Mr. L who looked up from his newspaper, noticing her awkwardness. He gave a soft command: "Lola, eat normally." Only then did she nervously pick up a croissant and carefully take a small bite.
Villiers watched her restrained behavior and sighed slightly. Just as he was about to place a pastry on her plate, Daniel returned.
Villiers had sent him to buy some "normal girl's clothes." Unsure of what exactly that meant, Daniel had bought a variety of women's clothes from the store, filling an entire suitcase.
Lola was completely stunned when she saw the suitcase full of clothes.
She squatted down and opened the suitcase. Inside were all sorts of tops, skirts, and coats, in strawberry red, mango yellow, lake blue, and the soft pink of dawn... She had never seen such a variety of dresses. Until now, she had always thought a dress was simply a piece of fabric with two thin straps. But seeing these dresses, she realized how beautiful and intricate a simple dress could be.
She picked up a copper-green dress, its fabric so silky it almost slipped through her fingers. She had never touched a dress this soft. The most expensive and refined dress she owned was a simple cotton one.
Her nose tingled, and her eyes grew warm, but she didn't want to cry. She really didn't want to cry. She didn't want Mr. L to think she was crying because of the value of the dress. In truth, she didn't even know why she wanted to cry, but she couldn't stop the tears from welling up as she looked at these dresses.
Lola lowered her head, holding the copper-green dress, and walked into the bedroom. From start to finish, she never looked up, not wanting the two gentlemen to ask her any concerned questions. Thankfully, they were indeed very gentlemanly and refrained from asking anything.
A minute later, Lola emerged. After changing into the green dress, she instantly transformed into a charming and elegant young woman. Daniel then took out a pair of white soft-leather shoes and placed them in front of her.
Lola hesitated a bit, but eventually slipped them on.
Daniel quietly exited the dining room. Once he left, Lola relaxed a little. She lowered her head to look at the soft shoes on her feet—my goodness, this was the first time she had ever realized that leather shoes could be this comfortable. For the past eighteen years, she had always thought leather shoes were like a living creature—they had to be worn for miles to be tamed. Who knew that the shoes of the wealthy were docile from the very start.
After admiring the shoes, she glanced at Mr. L. He was still reading his French newspaper—Lola could speak French, but she couldn't read it. He sat slightly turned away from her, holding the paper in both hands. His nose was so prominent it almost extended beyond his eyes. As she looked at his gray hair, his deep gray-blue eyes, and the stubble on his jawline, then down at the shoes on her feet, her heart began to beat faster and faster.
She was truly tormented by this. This man didn't like her at all, yet he treated her so well... Wasn't he afraid she'd like him more and more?
Perhaps sensing her gaze, Mr. L lowered the newspaper and turned to look at her. "What's wrong? Do the shoes not fit?"
Meeting his gaze, her heart swelled with a strange warmth, and she blurted out impulsively, "I'm starting to like you more and more."
Mr. L was taken aback for a moment. He shook his head and avoided the topic. "Lola, my assistant learned that you haven't graduated from high school yet. Why?"
Lola instinctively wanted to lie, but when she looked into those cold gray-blue eyes, she couldn't come up with any excuse. She could only surrender and admit, "My grades were too poor, and the tuition was too expensive. Rather than wasting money continuing my studies, I thought it would be better to start working to support myself."
Mr. L seemed to ignore her disdain for school entirely. He shook the newspaper slightly and said, "At a school like that, you definitely wouldn't learn much. I plan to send you to a private school to continue your education.
You don't need to worry about the tuition; you just need to focus on your studies." His tone was commanding, leaving no room for argument.
Private school tuition was on an entirely different level from public schools.
The value of the clothes in that suitcase alone was substantial, but a year's tuition at a private school could buy several suitcases full of such clothes. Mr. L wasn't being kind to her—he was pitying her, treating her as an object of charity.
Realizing this, Lola's heart grew cold.
Perhaps in his eyes, she was no different from a beggar on the street...
Sometimes, she would feel sorry for the homeless and toss them a few coins. Maybe, in his eyes, sending her to a private school was no different than the coins she carelessly gave away.
What was this old man doing? Was this how he dealt with other women who tried to seduce him? First, he would politely reject them, then buy them a suitcase full of clothes, and finally send them to school... How could such a man exist? A man who exuded charm so carelessly, yet rejected her affection so easily...
Lola understood rationally that Mr. L was doing this for her benefit, but her emotions refused to be guided by reason. The thought that other women—or even beggars on the street—could receive the same treatment from him filled her with uncontrollable jealousy.
As jealousy surged in her mind, she heard a loud "buzz" inside her head, and all her thoughts went blank. By the time she regained her senses, she had already walked over to Mr. L, impulsively sitting on his lap, and fiercely bit his lips, full of frustration and anger.
Mr. L looked at her in astonishment.
This time, she didn't kiss him. She only whispered in his ear, "Stop with your charity. I don't like school, and I don't need you to sponsor me like some philanthropist. I only want you to like me."
After saying this, she stood up, and right in front of him, she removed the soft shoes and kicked them to his feet. Then, with both hands behind her back, she yanked down the zipper of her dress.
Mr. L turned his head away and closed his eyes.
Lola threw the dress, warm from her body, onto his lap. She picked up her old clothes, put them on, wrapped herself in her mother's long coat, slipped into her red high heels, and walked out of the suite without looking back.
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