Chapter 60: Mistaking a
Pebble for a Gem
Like old friends, Davina’s smile was warm and teasing, as though we shared a close senior–junior relationship.
I didn’t answer her right away. Instead, I asked, “Mr. Lynton, Davina, have you met Free Spirit in person yet?”
As soon as I spoke, the smile on Davina’s face froze, and she awkwardly replied, “Not yet. Maybe he’s been delayed on the way.” Her voice was soft, lacking confidence, more like a self–reassurance.
It seemed I was right–things hadn’t been as smooth for Fletcher’s side as I had imagined.
“Ms. Grande, you’re more capable than I
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thought, came Fletcher’s cold voice, drifting into my ears. I looked up slightly and met his eyes, which briefly scanned between Bradley and me with a mocking glint.
The sarcasm was obvious.
Normally, I wouldn’t let it bother me, but Bradley had helped me, and I didn’t think he deserved to be ridiculed by Fletcher.
I gave a thin smile, replying in a neutral tone, “Mr. Lynton, you overestimate me. It takes one to know one.”
Fletcher gave me a side–eye, then turned to Davina, asking, “Have you decided which of the two paintings you want?”
His tone softened slightly.
Davina shook her head, looking a bit
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distressed. “One is all about sentiment, the
other has more commercial value. It’s hard to choose.”
“Alright,” Fletcher said, as if offering comfort, his tone patient. “Forget about it. Just get both.”
“Really?” Davina exclaimed, covering her mouth in excitement. Her face showed genuine surprise. “Letch, don’t you think it’s too extravagant?”
Her words weren’t wrong. While the price tags weren’t displayed, considering the high–end atmosphere of the event, each painting was probably worth at least six figures.
And Fletcher? He casually offered to buy them.
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His generosity was certainly… impressive.
But of course, this was just a sweet gesture between lovers, and I didn’t feel the need to comment on it.
At that moment, however, Bradley, standing beside me, suddenly spoke up, “The paintings on the first floor are mostly by commercial artists. They probably don’t have much value as collectibles. As for the ones on the second floor… If I’m being honest, the artist is just following trends, painting whatever’s popular. Even the so–called nostalgic themes are just recycled ideas from a few years ago. Not worth mentioning.”
Bradley spoke in such a casual tone, as if he were the official critic of celebrities, straightforward and unassuming. But his words had a sharp impact, causing both Fletcher and Davina to lose their composure.
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What had been a tender moment between lovers was instantly doused by Bradley’s blunt remarks.
Clearly, being younger, he had no filter and didn’t mind speaking his mind.
To diffuse the tension and prevent things from getting worse, I quickly stepped in, “Mr. Lynton is selecting the artwork as a gift for someone he falls for. The thought and intention behind it matter more than anything else.”
Bradley wasn’t dumb. He understood my subtle hint and quickly added, “Sorry, I thought you two were close with Charlene, so I spoke frankly. If I’ve overstepped, please forgive me.”
With his fair skin, striking charming
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eyes, and a face that still held a youthful innocence, he gave an apologetic smile that was almost as sweet as Davina’s demure nature. After all, who would hold a grudge against a naive, well–meaning younger guy?
Sure enough, the next moment, Davinal responded with a smile, “Thank you for your reminder. Charlene, your friend is really blunt, huh?”
I shot Bradley a quick glance, not denying it, but when my gaze landed on Fletcher, I caught the subtle downturn of his lips–a clear sign of displeasure.
He rarely let his emotions show like that.
I figured he didn’t appreciate us interrupting his intimate moment with Davina.
“Well then,” Davina said with a natural grace,
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looping her arm through Fletcher’s, “Let’s leave you two to chat. Time’s getting on, so we’ll excuse ourselves”
Fletcher didn’t object.
But I caught something in her words –“Time’s getting on“-which seemed to imply that Free Spirit was about to make an
appearance.
I felt a surge of anticipation.
“Charlene,” came Bradley’s voice, breaking my train of thought. “Looks like your taste isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
With that mischievous gleam in his charming eyes, I suddenly realized I had underestimated him.
Bradley was far sharper than I had given him
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credit for
A short while later, Bradley was called away by Harvey to mingle with the guests, leaving me to wander the crowd. But after much searching, I couldn’t spot anyone suspicious.
I reluctantly turned my attention back to Fletcher and Davina.
After observing for a while, I noticed that the man Fletcher had been conversing with the longest was a middle–aged man, likely around forty, sporting a small braid. His appearance oddly resembled the kind of person Free Spirit might be.
Once their conversation came to an end, I walked over with a champagne glass in hand to greet them.
After a few casual words, I picked up some
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art–related information from the man, which only deepened my suspicions.
I felt a flicker of excitement, but just as I was about to respond, he asked, “Do you have time after the party? I know a great French restaurant, we could chat over dinner.”
I faltered slightly, at a loss for words.
Having spent enough time with Kaitlyn, I had learned to read between the lines of others‘ words.
“She’s busy,” came a cold voice, pressing into my ear. “Very busy!”
I turned and saw Fletcher standing quietly beside me, dressed in a black suit. Alone.
His ever–present companion, Davina, was nowhere in sight.
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His expression was dark, his mood clearly soured.
The middle–aged man chuckled and looked at Fletcher, puzzled. “Letch, do you know this lady?”
Fletcher ignored him, his eyes locking onto mine, his voice cold. “Ms. Grande, you seem to have a lot of free time. How’s the progress going?”
“Ms. Grande?” The man looked at me in surprise, then hesitated for a moment before quickly shifting to a more formal demeanor. “So, you’re the Ms. Grande praised by Stack himself? My apologies.”
I was about to respond, but Fletcher interrupted me. “I’m talking to you.”
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His tone was urgent, a sharp contrast to his usual calm demeanor
I answered truthfully, “There’s no progress yet”
“And yet you still have the time to flirt. around?”
The scent of red wine mingled with the man’s breath, flooding my senses as I lifted my gaze to meet Fletcher’s.
His eyes were unfocused, distant, filled with mockery and displeasure.
Flirt around?
Well, I wouldn’t tell him my true intention was to probe Free Spirit’s identity. Instead, I simply pressed my lips together in silence.
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Fletcher frowned, his expression tightening, before he scoffed. “So, how did you convince the heir of the Chavez family to bring you to this art show?”
The heir of the Chavez family.
Was he referring to the prestigious Chavez family in Myslana?
I froze for a moment, surprised to learn that Bradley had this connection.
Looking back at his earlier behavior, it all seemed to make sense now.
But Fletcher’s insinuation about how I got here was likely far from a compliment.
The irritation that had been simmering inside me flared up, and I fought to keep my composure.
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As I scanned the room, I realized that the middle–aged man had somehow disappeared, leaving only Fletcher and me in the corner.
An intense air of tension surrounded him, weighing heavily on the atmosphere.
The oppressive feeling made it hard for me to breathe.
“Mr. Lynton,” I gripped my wine glass tightly, trying to shake off the discomfort. “I’ll excuse myself for now.”
“Humph,” a mocking laugh followed. I heard Fletcher’s voice again, sharp and biting. “Winston’s interested in you, huh? He truly mistook a pebble for a gem.”
