"Please change your shoes. Do you have any items that need safekeeping?"
"Please change into your robe. All our items are used only once per guest and are thoroughly sanitized, so feel free to use them."
"Here's the tea you ordered. Please wait a moment while we arrange for your aromatherapist."
There's no need to be restrained when getting a spa treatment.
Because you've paid, everything is organized perfectly for you.
Even your shoes are taken off for youâyour only task is to relax.
After his bath, James was led to an opulently decorated room where he comfortably sat on a sofa, waiting for the therapists to arrive.
The $1,888 treatment involved two therapists: one would massage his head, the other his feet.
For a full 120 minutes, the two women worked their magic.
Under their thorough and vigorous care, James felt completely rejuvenated, with all fatigue from earlier in the day swept away. His back even straightened a bit more.
The front desk then brought over some delicious snacks, asking for James's feedback.
Upon hearing his praise, everyone exited the room to let their guest rest.
They also informed him that if he wanted an extension or any additional services, he could use the service bell or simply sleep until morning.
James mused about why so many people enjoyed spa treatments.
The service and attitude were truly exceptional, and the massage had indeed rejuvenated and relaxed his body.
He lay there resting for a while, and once Amanda finished her work, he happily left the spa to pick her up and bring her home.
On the way, James enthusiastically recommended the wellness center next door to Amanda, praising their professional spa techniques.
Upon hearing this, Amanda thoughtfully asked if she should learn some of their massage techniques to help him unwind at home.
James was touched and insisted that he'd already learned what was necessary and could teach her instead.
Back home, the energized James took Amanda, fresh out of the shower, to their room, gesturing for her to lie down.
Amanda complied, allowing him to practice the Thai massage techniques he'd just learned.
Thai massage involves a lot of stretching and is quite intensive.
Accidentally, he pulled Amanda's towel loose.
Mortified by his mistake, James was nearly in tears from embarrassment.
The night passed without further incident.
Early the next morning, James urgently inquired if Artair had finished the proposals.
If he didn't soon confess his love to Tailsa, he feared his energy would be entirely depleted.
Artair had been busy the entire night.
There were still many unresolved details; for instance, the wedding company didn't have hot air balloons, and using them required permits.
Hiring chefs, bands, and actors also took time, requiring visits to various places.
Moreover, tasks like cleaning and repainting the villa's facade, renting a movie-style water truck to create a rainbow, and so on.
Even getting quotes for all these took half a day and was exhausting.
The main issue was inefficiency, as the big companies took forever to provide quotes and were very rigid about it.
Moreover, Artair hadn't been given any moneyâonly instructionsâwhich made them sluggish in responding.
Hearing Artair's complaints, James sympathized for two seconds and then sent him $10,000 as a hardship allowance.
He then called Housekeeper Qiu, assigning her a $300,000 budget to help Artair get everything done.
The reason he didn't leave it all to Winnie Morgan was because she was extremely busy.
Besides, when it came to romantic gestures, guys tended to have better instincts for such things.
Interestingly, people like Artair, as long as they remained single, seemed to have a high success rate in bringing others together.
This was some kind of mystical truth.
James spent the entire morning at Amanda's place, watching movies with her.
After lunch, he enjoyed a delightful nap.
Being taken care of at home, living like a slacker, was particularly enjoyable.
His dreams were sweet.
Around 1:30, Amanda woke him up.
He had told her earlier that he needed to meet someone that afternoon.
Looking at his sleep-tousled hair, Amanda frowned slightly.
"You need a haircut," she said.
With his current look, meeting anyone would be somewhat disrespectful.
"The place I used to go to closed down, and I've been looking for a new barber," he replied.
Every haircut is a gamble.
Men's loyalty to their barbers is second only to their loyalty to their partners.
Unless necessary, they don't usually change easily.
"You look a bit unkempt; maybe I should help you with a new style?"
Amanda eyed James up and down, teasingly remarking,
"I can't believe you managed to woo Tailsa looking like this. If you go meet another girl in this state, even if she doesn't say anything, she'll find you quite rude."
James tugged at his fringe, which had grown just past his eyesâindeed a bit long.
"What kind of style are you thinking?" he asked.
Amanda noticed him implicitly confirming the person he'd meet was a girl.
Her expression remained unchanged, still smiling brightly.
"Come with me," she said.
Amanda took James to a high-end salon and explained her expectations to a professional stylist.
James remained quiet, allowing the stylist to cut his hair.
After half an hour, his sides were trimmed short, and his long hair on top was cut and brushed back, revealing a strong and commanding forehead.
With his well-defined features and sharp lines, he effortlessly pulled off the textured side-part hairstyle.
Paired with a new white shirt and brown casual trousers, he looked every bit the charismatic gentleman.
Yet Amanda still wasn't satisfied. Resting her finger on her lips, she examined him.
Finally, she undid an extra button on his shirt and added sunglasses and a silver necklace, transforming him into a refined young man.
Only then did she nod approvingly, smiling brilliantly.
James checked himself in the mirror, his lips curving in satisfaction, feeling even more attractive.
Confidence instilled his entire being, radiating an easy-going, unrestrained air.
He now embodied the spirit of a carefree wanderer.
With Amanda's meticulous styling, this wanderer-turned-dapper-gentleman sat in the car with a twinge of guilt, heading to Miami to meet another woman.
What a rogue.
Such a complete rogue.
Here he was with a beautiful, gentle, and caring woman, yet he still went out chasing other girls.
I really am a scoundrel, he thought.
He chastised himself for about two seconds, then thought of the innocent little "bunny" and her unique charm.
A teasing smile curved his lips, banishing all guilt, as he messaged Shirley Taylor:
"Hey sweetheart, what time are your classes over?"
In the university classroom, Shirley Taylor stared blankly at the projected content.
Her brain automatically recorded the lecture notes despite her distraction.
She hadn't been sleeping well the past couple of days.
The $1.8 million withdrawal quietly sitting in her bank account left her in a constant daze each time she saw it.
Her parents' nearly strict upbringing instilled a belief in making money steadily and reliably.
Suddenly acquired wealth challenged her core values significantly.
It felt like she had done nothing, yet her boss had gifted her a substantial sum.
As the date of their meeting approached, she grew increasingly anxious and a little lost.
She wasn't quite sure what to do if her boss made unreasonable demands.
Her dorm mate, Bella, suggested simply returning the money and asserting that money couldn't tarnish a girl's purity.
Shirley, influenced by her parents' traditional views, believed certain things were meant for wedding night only.
But she couldn't bear the thought of returning the money.
That was $1.8 millionâwhat a normal person earns over decades.
Who wouldn't find it hard to let go?
She was immensely conflicted, praying quietly that James wouldn't take advantage of her.
She was so distracted that even during class, her mind wandered.
Seeing a message from James startled her, but she replied honestly:
"Five o'clock."
Shortly after, another message popped up:
"Great, I'll take you to dinner."
Shirley Taylor's eyelashes fluttered, her heart pounding fast.
She was so nervous that her hands trembled as she typed:
"I thought it was Saturday?"
The cold text didn't convey her tension, instead giving off a distant vibe.
Realizing her apprehension, James asked, "Do you have plans today?"
"No."
"Then let's make it today."
"..."
"It feels like you don't really want to," James remarked.
To be fair, after sending so many gifts, hadn't he expected the streamer to literally leap into his arms?
To keep their top patron bestowing rewards, hosts usually employ every tactic.
Why was Shirley Taylor, instead, acting as if she wanted to be forgotten?
"No."
"Then it's settled."
Her status showed she was typing, but no message appeared for a while.
James suspected she was finding an excuse to decline, coldly typing:
"Don't refuse your master's invitation."