Chapter 66: Cannon Fodder
Fletcher’s sharpness took me by surprise.
I thought he would only attribute my behavior to a simple compliment directed at a young CEO.
But now, it seemed as though he had seen right through my subtle intentions.
But life was all about acting, wasn’t it? When the time called for it, one must play the part convincingly.
Considering Fletcher’s position as an investor, I smiled and maintained a
harmonious front. “Mr. Lynton, don’t tease me. Even if I had the nerve, I wouldn’t dare
use you!”
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“Really?” His gaze was piercing. “I don’t think
so.”
His tone was so confident that it inexplicably made my heart skip a beat.
I curled my fingers nervously, forcing a smile. “Of course, and besides, didn’t you seem quite willing to cooperate just now?”
At my words, Fletcher’s expression faltered, and he fell silent.
I admit, there was a hint of sarcasm in my reply.
Seizing the opportunity, I quickly glanced at Silvia, who was not far away, and said, “Ms. Connery is calling for me, I’ll excuse myself for a moment.”
In comparison, cultivating a good
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As soon as the words left his lips, both Silvia and I were momentarily stunned.
No explanation was needed–by “partner,” Fletcher clearly meant Davina.
It was surprising to see Fletcher so mindful of it when out in public.
I couldn’t help but admire Davina’s skill in managing him.
Most people would have been enraged by such an answer, but Silvia didn’t react that way. Instead, she smiled and took the decanter from the waiter’s hands, speaking in a soft tone, “On such a beautiful evening, it would be a shame not to have a drink. Don’t you agree, Ms. Grande?”
I hadn’t expected Silvia to suddenly turn the
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question toward me, and for a moment, I was caught off guard.
I knew that if I gave the wrong answer, Silvia would likely remove me from the collaboration list immediately.
But Fletcher… I couldn’t afford to upset him either.
After weighing both sides, I decided to pass the question back to Fletcher. “Ms. Connery, you do make a good point, but Mr. Lynton is quite disciplined with himself.”
“Is that so?” Silvia flashed a sly smile. “Mr. Lynton, after all the effort I’ve put into arranging this lavish meal, are you sure you won’t give me this little favor? Do you think the wine’s not good enough, or is it that you just don’t like me?”
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That was a tricky question.
And the way Silvia said it–sweet yet teasing -was something most people would find hard to resist.
I silently felt a bit of sympathy for Fletcher, but just as I was about to turn away, I heard him say, “Ms. Grande, why aren’t you saying anything? Ms. Connery is asking you a question.”
It seemed Fletcher had misunderstood–Ms. Connery wasn’t asking me at all!
I suddenly realized that once again, Fletcher was putting me in a difficult spot.
When I looked up at him, I saw him calmly holding a glass, looking completely at ease.
So, he was going to push me out as cannon
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fodder again, was he?
Well, don’t blame me for being blunt then.
“Mr. Lynton,” I said, my voice steady and serious, “It would be a bit unreasonable not to have a drink after Ms. Connery’s kind gesture.”
As soon as I finished speaking, the sound of “thud” echoed through the room as Fletcher gently set his glass down on the table.
It seemed he wasn’t happy.
I quickly continued, “Besides, Ms. Connery and Davina are close friends. With Davina’s generous nature, she wouldn’t hold this against you.”
There was no way around it–since everyone was here for Free Spirit, I naturally chose
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to side with the one that benefited me the
most.
As for Fletcher, well, I couldn’t afford to care too much about him now.
Sure enough, after my words, Silvia beamed with joy. “Ms. Grande, you’re so nice. What do you think, Mr. Lynton?”
His calm eyes rested on my face. After a two–second pause, Fletcher finally said, “Alright.”
And just like that, the drinking began.
The aged red wine had an excellent taste, but as anyone knew, drinking was easy to start but hard to stop.
On top of that, Ms. Connery was quite the talker, with an impressive tolerance for
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alcohol, and she kept pressing us with one round of toasts after another. By the end of it, both Duke and I were struggling to keep
up.
Fletcher, on the other hand, stuck to his principle of moderation, sipping slowly and carefully.
Silvia noticed this and scooted her chair closer to him. Pouring more wine, she said, “Mr. Lynton, I have to admit, the first time I saw you, I was really quite taken aback.”
It seemed she was about to pour out her feelings.
“I was just thinking, how is it possible for a man to have such a handsome face?” Silvia leaned in closer. “Vina is really lucky!”
At her words, I slipped, and the fork I was
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holding fell from my hand and clattered to the floor.
I bent down casually to pick it up, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Silvia brushing her long leg against Fletcher’s.
The scene was steamy, to say the least.
But Fletcher, as always, remained cool and detached, completely unfazed.
“Mr. Lynton, I think I’ve had too much to drink,” Silvia purred. “Could you please escort me back to my room?”
Her intentions couldn’t have been clearer.
I glanced at Fletcher quickly before diverting
my gaze.
In moments like this, Duke and I should just
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fade into the background, pretending to be nothing more than part of the scenery.
As I was trying to come up with an excuse to leave, Fletcher’s voice suddenly brushed against my ear.
“Ms. Grande, you take Ms. Connery back to her room.”
Sometimes, it really was true–what you feared the most always seemed to come.
Silvia wanted Fletcher to take her back to her room. If I messed this up, I was certain the guest list thing would be out of the question.
I took a breath, feigning drunkenness. “Sorry, Ms. Connery, I’m feeling dizzy and need to throw up. I… I’ll just step to the restroom for a moment.”
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If I couldn’t afford to offend her, I had to at least show some awareness of the situation.
Before standing up, I caught a brief flash of approval in Silvia’s eyes.
I hid in the restroom for a full twenty
minutes.
By now, Fletcher must have already taken Silvia and left the dining area.
I figured, someone as clever as Fletcher, if he didn’t want to, he’d have hundreds of ways to refuse Silvia. Unlike me, I couldn’t afford to offend anyone.
But there was also the possibility that…
After all, Silvia had beauty and charm in abundance. If Fletcher couldn’t resist, it was only natural, right?
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The one who should be worried was Davina,
wasn’t it?
After mentally preparing myself, I returned to the dining room, and from a distance, I saw someone sitting alone at the table.
Upon closer inspection, it was none other than Fletcher.
At that moment, he resembled an emotionless block of ice, sitting silently by the window with his eyes half–closed. His face was obscured by the backlight, his emotions unreadable.
It was his aura of detachment and self–restraint that made him feel as if he
could only be admired from a distance, never to be seduced.
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Silvia and Duke were nowhere to be seen.
Seeing this, I let out a soft sigh of relief.
I had been right–Fletcher certainly knew how to refuse people.
The wind on the mountaintop was fierce, and with the cold of the deep winter, the chill in the air intensified. I glanced at the man by the window and asked the waiter to bring a blanket.
As I approached Fletcher, I prided myself on speaking softly and moving cautiously. However, as soon as the blanket settled over his shoulders, the man, who had been resting with his eyes closed, suddenly lifted his gaze and said coldly, “Not feeling dizzy anymore?”