34 Red Wine

Gemma's POV.

A few days later, Mr. CEO appears again.

He comes over to award the Excellent Employee Medal. When he hands me the award, he gently pats my shoulder and quietly says, "I heard my son is still pursuing you, Gemma. Keep it up; don't let him succeed too easily."

I can't help but feel amused and helpless.

That evening, I work overtime. But working late doesn't mean I'm selling cars at the dealership; the dealership is hosting a car salon at a five-star hotel, inviting all our VIP clients and some high-spending potential clients interested in cars.

I walk into the venue in a formal dress, and there are quite a few people inside, both men and women, all dressed very fashionably and expensively.

I take a deep breath, start mingling, and hand out business cards.

Suddenly, someone blocks my path.

"Gemma, long time no see."

I look up and see Mr. Smith, a client who bought a car from me.

It has indeed been a while.

However, he seems to have gained more weight, and his head is balding more, shining under the light.

I force a smile, "Mr. Smith, is your Mercedes still working well for you? If you have time, come back to our dealership; we'll offer you super low-priced maintenance for your car."

Mr. Smith is fiddling with a silver lighter, leaning back on the sofa with a smile, saying the car is fine but he's a bit tired of it and wants to buy a new one.

"I have a few friends who came with me today. Come on, let's go to the private room."

He pulls me into the private room.

The atmosphere inside is livelier; the round table is filled with people, and the men are joking harmlessly while the young women who came with them stand up with wine glasses to toast.

I feel a bit uneasy, but then I remember this is an event hosted by the dealership, so Mr. Smith probably won't do anything to me.

So I sit down.

He introduces me to everyone, "Gemma, the sales champion from Allum Dealership. If you want to buy a car, just ask her."

The men look at me with smiles, "Gemma, right? Nice name, and you look nice too. Let's have a drink."

I can't avoid it, so I have to grab a glass of red wine from the table.

I down it in one gulp.

"Good drinker," a man starts clapping.

Mr. Smith laughs, "What did I say? Not everyone can be a sales champion."

It gets a bit hot in the room now; the smell of alcohol, perfume, and food mix together, making me a bit uncomfortable.

I hand out business cards to everyone present, then stand up to leave, but Mr. Smith grabs my wrist, "Everyone is still waiting for you to share some car knowledge. Are you leaving just like this?"

"Yeah, Gemma, let us see how professional you are," others start to chime in.

I freeze in place.

Mr. Smith stands up and pushes me back into my seat, "Let's have another drink."

I purse my lips, "I need to go to the restroom to touch up my makeup."

"Gemma, you look great already; you're more beautiful without makeup."

The lights above are bright, reflecting off the wine in the glass.

In front of me are clients; I can't offend anyone, so I swallow and reach for the wine, but in the next second, the door behind me opens.

Luke leans down, placing his hand over mine, and I hear him say, "I'll drink for her."

I widen my eyes and turn to look at Luke.

He smiles at the corners of his mouth, but his eyes don't. The colorful lights in the private room fall into his pupils, like a bottomless spring.

Luke pulls my hand away and turns to me, "Get out."

I get up, and he sits in the spot I just occupied.

The private room suddenly falls silent.

After a moment, someone breaks the ice and asks with a smile, "Mr. Luke is protecting Gemma so much; what's your relationship?"

Luke looks down at his wine glass, his eyelashes casting a faint shadow on his lower eyelid, his voice carrying a smile, "Just boss and employee. I appreciate talent; is that a problem?"

Then he turns to me, "What are you still doing here? Waiting for me to carry you out?"

I finally react and turn to walk towards the door.

The stale air in the private room recedes like a tide, along with some emotions I can't quite understand.

I stay quiet for two seconds, then I'm drawn to the commotion in the hall.

"Bang, bang, bang."

Champagne streamers and confetti spray everywhere, and petals and golden ribbons fall from the ceiling.

Petals and scraps of paper land on my head, and I reach up to brush them away.

After the dinner, I take a taxi home and sit in the living room for a long time.

I stare at the silent TV, my ears attentive to the sounds outside the door. But until two in the morning, there are no footsteps from Luke in the hallway.

The next morning at the dealership, I hold the sales report and knock on Luke's office door.

However, the person sitting inside isn't Luke; it's his father.

I place the report on the desk, hesitating for a few seconds.

The CEO takes the initiative to tell me, "No need to guess; my son is currently in the hospital."

At my surprised look, the CEO continues, "He's been having stomach issues these days and was diagnosed with a stomach ulcer at the hospital. But he still drank last night and is still on an IV drip."

The CEO pauses, "You were at the party last night too; what exactly happened?"

"I—I was pressured to drink by clients, and then he showed up and drank for me..." My voice gets quieter.

The CEO shakes his head, "It seems my son really likes you. I've never seen him care about any girl like this before."

I pinch my fingers together, saying nothing.

"So he must have done something to upset you, and that's why you're not turning back, right?" The CEO smiles again, "Well, take this chance to continue tormenting him. He's already living too comfortably at our home all there years."

"?"

After work, Jacob comes to pick me up, and he seems very cheerful today. "I'll take you out for dinner."

"I'm not very hungry," I say.

"If you don't like fancy restaurants, we can go to a casual diner."

"I'm a bit tired today."

Jacob looks at me quietly for a moment and smiles, "Then I'll just take you home."

"Okay."

I get out of the car at the entrance of my community and take the elevator to the fourth floor. I see the doorplate of 402 and hesitate, wondering whether to knock. After thinking for a few seconds, I turn around and go back to my own place.

He might not be home; or maybe he is back, but what would I say?

I lie on the bed, and as soon as I close my eyes, I think of the eyes he had when he drank for me. I sit up abruptly, find a box of unopened stomach medicine from the medicine cabinet, put it in a plastic bag, and hang it on his doorknob.

Then I return home.

Moments later, my phone rings; it's the delivery person, saying my takeout is downstairs and hoping I can come down to get it.

I tell him I didn't order takeout and that he must have the wrong number, but the delivery person confirms that the address and phone number are indeed mine, ordered by a Mr. Jacob.

I go downstairs to get the takeout, then call Jacob to thank him and say I'll treat him to a meal another day.

Jacob chuckles, "Gemma, don't you think you're being too polite?"

"I just think you don't have a stable career and job yet, so I want to save you a little."

"I have plenty of money; you don't need to worry about me, Gemma."

"But—"

He's currently using money from his grandmother, not his own.

"When you were with Luke, did you think about him like this too? Oh, wait, he has his own career, so you're not worried?"

"Let's not go off on a tangent, Jacob."

"Luke earns his own money, so you feel justified spending it, right?" he continues.

"Can we not make a big deal out of this?"

I look at the takeout on the table, suddenly feeling a bit irritated. Ever since I got together with Jacob, every argument is because of Luke.

"You are who you are, and you're great, Jacob. Don't compare yourself to others," I try to say patiently.

"Because I want you to like me," Jacob pauses, "Since you like him so much, I thought if I'm a bit like him, maybe you would love me a little too."

I take a deep breath, "I used to be foolish to like him. Now I've become smarter."

Jacob chuckles softly on the other end of the line, his mood improving.

Just this moment, there's a knock at the door.

I walk over and open the door.

"Thank you for bringing the medicine," Luke stands outside in his pajamas, holding a plastic bag.

I hold my breath.

Because I suddenly realize that my phone call hasn't ended.