Chapter 220
Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now
Chapter 220:
âOh, no,â Hadley protested, shaking her head. âI canât keep imposing on you.â
Denver raised an eyebrow, offering a faint smile. âBut arenât you tired and in a rush to get home?â
Before Hadley could respond, her phone buzzed in her hand. Her heart sank as she read the message from Eric.
âIâm at the entrance. Are you finished, or should I come in to get you?â Her face drained of color.
Noticing the sudden change in her expression, Denver asked, âHadley? Are you alright?â
âWhat?â Hadley forced a small smile, clutching her phone. âIâm fineâ¦â What should she do? If she walked out now, Eric would surely catch her.
On impulse, she turned to Denver. âCould you drive me home?â
Denver brightened at the request. âAbsolutely.â
He gestured invitingly. âThis way.â
âThank you.â
Meanwhile, across the street, Eric sat in his car, phone in hand, waiting for Hadleyâs reply.
Looking up, he spotted a man and a woman stepping out of the club together. Their strides were in sync, and their faces were illuminated by the easy laughter shared between old companions.
Hadley kept her eyes fixed ahead, deliberately avoiding a glance across the street as she slipped into Denverâs car without hesitation.
From a distance, Eric watched the vehicle pull away, his silence speaking volumes. His grip on his phone tightened, the plastic casing groaning under the pressure.
As they drove, Denver shot Hadley a quick glance before nodding toward the back seat.
âThereâs a bag behind you. Can you grab it for me?â
âSure.â
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Hadley hesitated for a moment before reaching back. The bag was heavier than she had expected, and its weight stirred her curiosity.
Her fingers tightened around the strap. âWant me to open it?â
âGo ahead.â
âOkay.â
Inside, she found an insulated container, the kind used for takeout. She popped the lid, and the familiar scent of sweet pumpkin soup filled the car.
She frowned slightly, glancing up at Denver. âWhatâs this for?â
Denver chuckled. âPumpkin soup. Isnât it your favorite, Hadley?â
âIt is.â
Memories flickeredâDenver had brought her the same soup once before. That time, she never got to taste it. Eric had made sure of that.
âGo on and have some,â Denver urged. Noticing her hesitation, he nodded toward the container. âI got it just for you.â
Hadley felt a flicker of embarrassment, uncertain whether Denver had gone out of his way intentionally.
She couldnât ignore itâthe subtle pull of his interest, faint but unmistakable.
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