Claudine drove alone, wandering aimlessly.
She had lived in Bronzevale for ten years, yet now, there wasn’t a single place where she felt at ease.
In the end, she drove to Rachelle Walton’s gallery.
She didn’t know if Rachelle would be there; she just didn’t want to be alone.
Fortunately, Rachelle had just returned from a business trip and was busy instructing her staff to sway out paintings for the upcoming exhibition.
When Claudine arrived, Rachelle was in the middle of work.
Seeing Claudine, Rachelle didn’t stand on ceremony and immediately directed her upstairs.
“Go keep an eye on the workers upstairs. You have a knack for luxury displays, so help me take a look.”
Just like that, Claudine was put to work as a supervisor and stayed busy until evening.
Thanks to that, she didn’t have the energy to dwell on her sorrows.
Once all the paintings were in place, Rachelle and Claudine did a final check together before calling it a day.
“Come on, to thank you, I’ll treat you to a drink!”
Claudine didn’t want to go back to Belmont Estates, so she agreed and followed Rachelle to a bar.
The bar was tucked away in an inconspicuous alley, and at the end of the alley, a large graffiti mural was illuminated by blue lights.
“Let’s go. The owner here is a master at mixing drinks.
And today’s paintings were all created by this man!”
Rachelle led Claudine through an old, ornate iron door and down the stairs, where a striking painting greeted them.
It depicted a person with twisted facial features, tightly bound by unknown tentacles, raising a knife to cut off their own restrained hand.
The bar was quiet, with small groups of patrons sitting together. On stage, a man in a white shirt was singing “Some- one Like You.”
His gentle voice was soothing and relaxing to listen to.
Rachelle took Claudine to sit at the bar.
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The bartender spotted Rachelle and called out, “Rachelle!”
“Your boss is in a good mood today, performing on stage himself.”
Rachelle turned to Claudine and said, “That’s the owner I told you about.”
Claudine looked at the stage again.
She had only glanced at him before, but now, looking closely, the man had delicate features and an innocent air while singing, which made it hard to imagine he could paint such a powerful piece as the one at the entrance.
When the song ended, the man walked over to the bar.
“The usual?”
His speaking voice was as gentle and pure as his singing, making people feel at ease.
Rachelle greeted him and introduced Claudine.
He looked at Claudine, and when he smiled, two dimples appeared on his cheeks.
“Hello, I’m Clinton Boyle. Just call me Clint, like Rach does.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Rachelle slapped Clinton on the shoulder.
“What ‘Rach“? How many times have I told you, call me ‘Rachelle!””
Even after being slapped, Clinton didn’t get angry and remained as gentle and serene as ever.
“The usual?”
Rachelle nodded, “Yes, do whatever you like.”
Claudine glanced between the two of them, feeling there was something more between them.
She nudged Rachelle’s arm.
“Is he your younger admirer?”
Rachelle glared at her, “Don’t be ridiculous. If I’d married and had kids early, I could’ve given birth to him!”
Claudine teased Rachelle a bit more, and her mood improved.
Just then, Clinton brought over the drinks he’d mixed.
Rachelle’s drink was served in an adorable peach–shaped glass.
Claudine winked at Rachelle, giving her a knowing look.
Surprisingly, Rachelle actually blushed!
Claudine looked as if she’d discovered a new continent.
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That night, she didn’t drink much.
Maybe it was because she hadn’t eaten all day, or maybe it was seeing the subtle chemistry between Rachelle and Clinton that made her happy for Rachelle.
In any case, she got drunk.
She rested her head on her hand, watching the secret, ambiguous interactions between Rachelle and Clinton.
For some reason, a wave of sourness welled up in her heart.
Her phone vibrated; it was a message from Damian, informing her to come to the company tomorrow and cooperate with the publicity department to shoot a promotional video.
Reading the message, Claudine felt an even deeper ache in her heart.
She picked up the whisky on the table and drank it all in one gulp.
A single tear slid from the corner of her eye into the glass, making the bitterness almost impossible to swallow.
Claudine set down her glass, greeted Rachelle, and prepared to leave.
“I’m heading out. You guys keep having fun.”
Rachelle was learning to play an instrument with Clinton. Hearing that Claudine was leaving, she got up as well, say- ing she wanted to see her off.
