After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 22: Do You Have Time Tonight?

Moira Sloan sent the message. Inside, behind the floor-to-ceiling window, Connor Quinn frowned.

A moment later, a reply appeared on her phone: No.

They weren’t dating, after all. Some things were best left unsaid.

Seeing Connor Quinn’s message, Moira Sloan smiled, put her phone away, and kept walking.

As Moira Sloan stepped into the shop, Shauna Duane’s eyes lit up as she stared.

The adoration in her eyes was undisguised. If it had been the middle of the night, Moira would have worried those eyes might start glowing green.

Come to think of it, for a second there, it was a lot like that horror movie she’d watched last night.

The thought of the horror movie made Moira belatedly feel a pang in her hip.

To ease the pain, Moira leaned back in her chair. "I’ll transfer it to you?"

Shauna Duane blinked. "Fifty thousand?"

Moira pulled out her phone, tapped the screen with a fingertip, and said with a curl of her red lips, "Seventy-five thousand."

Shauna Duane was in disbelief. Only when the transfer notification from Moira actually appeared on her phone did she believe she wasn’t dreaming.

Shauna Duane’s expression went through a thousand changes in a second.

Complex, conflicted, contradictory.

Finally, clutching her phone, Shauna Duane said to Moira, a little awkwardly, "Don’t think that just because I took your money, I won’t keep an eye on you. I’m telling you, my love isn’t something that can be bought and sold."

Moira chuckled. "Then give me the money back."

Hearing this, Shauna Duane hid her phone behind her back. "No way."

Moira had no intention of actually asking for the money back. A smile played on her lips. "In this society, there’s nothing that can’t be measured by money."

With that, Moira tapped her phone to order two coffees, then added, "Unless the values aren’t equivalent."

Shauna Duane was still naive and couldn’t comprehend Moira’s cynical theories.

But she did greatly admire Moira’s ability to make money.

A while later, the coffee arrived. Moira handed her a cup. As Shauna took it, she said, "Are your pieces really that valuable?"

A single commission for five million. That was more profitable than her family’s hotel.

There wasn’t any high-end coffee in the small county; it was basically all instant.

Moira picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, her brow furrowing slightly. ’I’ll have to buy a coffee machine for the shop in a couple of days,’ she decided.

"They’re not."

Shauna said, "Huh?"

Moira said bluntly, "Those two people who just came in—one was my ex’s assistant, and the other was probably the assistant of his fiancée."

Shauna Duane’s jaw dropped. "Huh?"p>

Moira said, "They came here on purpose to mess with me."

Shauna was stunned. "Huh??"

Moira suddenly smiled. "Did you really think I’m some kind of national master? That a few little pieces like these could sell for five million?"

Shauna was speechless, unsure of how to respond for a moment.

In that instant, Shauna suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for Moira.

Noticing the sympathy in Shauna’s eyes, Moira raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Forgot I’m your love rival?"

Shauna said, "..."

’Great.’

That little bit of sympathy she’d felt instantly vanished.

Moira Sloan had one great strength: she had always been able to keep her personal life and her work separate.

Since she had accepted this commission, she would do her absolute best.

Her reason for returning to Everwood from Atheria in the first place wasn’t just a broken heart. A large part of it was that she had been mentally and physically exhausted.

Too many messy things had become entangled, and it was enough to make anyone feel a sudden surge of rebellious emotion.

Before starting on the lacquerware, the first step was to work on the designs. Moira spent the better part of the day drafting them.

As dusk approached, she sat up and stretched, noticing several unread messages on her phone screen.

She was a workaholic. When she got too absorbed, she would lose herself completely.

She’d even forget her own existence, let alone the vibration of her phone.

She picked up her phone, leaned back lazily in her chair, and unlocked the screen to check her messages.

One was from her mentor’s wife, asking when she was returning to Atheria and saying she’d like to see her.

One was from Flora Rhodes, tipping her off that Rachel Yates was going to be a bridesmaid at Shane Jennings’s wedding.

Moira didn’t reply to the first two messages. She tilted her long, fair neck back, creating a beautiful arc as she stretched, then opened the last one directly.

Connor Quinn: Are you free tonight?