Holly Winslow was caught off guard and choked. "COUGH, COUGH..."
If even one of those "romances" of hers had been real, her teachers would have sent her ho for good.
Middle schoolers were even more childish than high schoolers. If she so much as spoke to a boy, it ant she was dating him.
eting her husband’s dark, scrutinizing gaze, she said, "No, Mortir was my first love."
"Huh?"
Chet Sutton said disbelievingly, "I thought you were with Liam Kensington from the honors class. If I had known..."
If he had known, he would have pursued her, and he might not be single now.
Mortir Quincy’s face turned livid. He thought the "wild ducks" that had popped up in high school were more than enough, but it turned out there were even more in junior high.
’If I could go back to our junior high days, I’d strangle every last one of these ugly ducklings.’
He took a deep breath and said lightly to the group, "My wife is just too popular. There are a lot of guys with hopeless crushes."
’A bunch of toads.’
Holly Winslow: "..."
Chet Sutton: "..."
Everyone else: "..."
Zeke Zane: "..."
’Knowing Mortir,’ Zeke thought, ’the fact that he didn’t call them toads to their faces was him being polite.’
And so, the fond mories of their youth were brutally cut short by Mortir "the Hatchet."
After that, they moved on to other topics, and the atmosphere remained lively.
After dinner, everyone broke off into small groups and went their separate ways. Anna Willow, who had arranged to visit Zeke Zane’s parents, said, "Holly, Zeke and I are heading out now. Let’s go shopping together tomorrow."
"Okay." Holly Winslow waved.
Once they were a little further away, Mortir Quincy asked darkly, his jealousy palpable, "Are there more ’ugly ducklings’?"
Holly Winslow: "..."
She glared at him and pouted. "Are you trying to settle scores? You’ve had your fair share, too! I couldn’t count them all on my fingers and toes. I never even gave you a hard ti about your distant cousin, and you two were childhood sweethearts."
Mortir Quincy: "..."
Holly Winslow continued, "And you have the nerve to call a player? Look who’s talking..."
She rattled on, listing off a whole slew of examples.
Mortir Quincy: "..."
’I’ve made a terrible mistake,’ he thought. ’Trying to reason with my wife again.’
...
Yara Nolan had been on a two-day trial period. He was certainly capable, just a little green, as young people are.
Wyatt Winslow told soone in HR to let Yara Nolan know his trial period was over and that he would officially start the next day.
When Yara Nolan found out, he called his mother, Robin Roland, from the office during his lunch break. Hearing her familiar voice on the other end, he broke into a genuine smile. "Mom, have you eaten yet?"
Robin Roland was out selling newspapers under the blazing sun. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. "I have. How about you?"
"I’ve eaten."
Yara Nolan continued, "Mom, I passed my trial period. The monthly salary is thirty-five hundred."
"Mom, you should stop going out to sell newspapers for a while. I’ll send you money after I get my first paycheck."
Wyatt Winslow, who had just walked in, overheard this. The phone’s volu must have been turned up, because he could faintly hear a woman’s joyful voice on the other end. "I knew my Young Yancy could do it."
"I don’t have anything to do at ho anyway. Selling newspapers gives a chance to chat with people. I still have so money, you don’t need to send any."
"I’ll co over tomorrow to help you find an apartnt. We should try to find a decent one, sowhere safe."
"Mom, you don’t have to. I can look for one myself. You don’t know your way around here." Yara Nolan didn’t want her to travel all this way just to find an apartnt for him.
As the saying goes, a mother always worries about her child who is far from ho. Robin Roland was naturally concerned. "I know the way. Do you need any pickled vegetables? I can bring you so. What about clothes? And I have so preserved eggs I wrapped up..."
Hearing this, Wyatt Winslow adjusted his glasses, glanced at Yara Nolan, then quietly slipped out and returned to his own office.
He took out his phone and scrolled to the contact entry for his daughter.
’Holly, have you ever blad ?’
’For leaving you without a mother.’
After a few seconds, he pressed the call button.
A cheerful voice quickly ca from the other end of the line. "Dad! I was just about to call you. I found a short-sleeved shirt for you. Do you want it in blue or gray?"
"Blue," Wyatt Winslow replied after a mont’s silence.
After comparing the two, Holly Winslow said, "You know what, Dad? I’ll just get you both. They’re really nice. You’ll look so handso in them."
"Dad, have you eaten lunch? If not, I can bring you sothing."
"I haven’t." For so reason, Wyatt Winslow just felt the urge to say he hadn’t eaten.
"Then I’ll bring so over." Holly Winslow didn’t think much of it. After paying, she told Anna Willow and Iris Kensington, "I’m going to drop this food off for my dad. You guys keep looking around."
Carrying the bag of clothes, she went to a nearby restaurant and ordered takeout of a sour bamboo shoot fish dish. It ca with plenty of side dishes, so she didn’t need to order anything else.
She also got a portion for Yara Nolan, ordering two servings of rice in total.
The restaurant wasn’t far from Wyatt Winslow’s factory; it was only a seven or eight-minute taxi ride away.
The security guard at the gate recognized her and let her right in.
When Holly Winslow walked into Wyatt Winslow’s office with the food, he was looking over so docunts. His lips were pressed into their usual tight line, and he looked very serious.
Holly Winslow knocked on the open door with a smile. "Dad, can I co in?"
When Wyatt Winslow saw her, his lips relaxed. "Co in."
He stood up to take the food from her hands, placing it on the coffee table. He added, "You can always co in."
Holly Winslow smiled. "Dad, has Young Yancy eaten? I’ll call and ask him to co join us."
She made the call, but Yara Nolan said he had already eaten.
Holly Winslow hung up and saw that her father had already set out two sets of bowls and chopsticks.
She opened her mouth to say, "Dad, I’ll eat with..."
At the sa ti, Wyatt Winslow looked at her and said, "Together..."
The air was quiet for a few seconds before Holly Winslow suddenly burst out laughing. "Okay, Dad. Let’s eat together."
...
After Holly Winslow left, Wyatt Winslow called HR into his office. "Tell Yara Nolan the factory provides housing. Arrange accommodations for him starting tomorrow."
"This afternoon, go look at so vacant apartnts nearby. Find a two-bedroom place. Try to have it secured by the end of the day."
The HR representative wasn’t surprised. The factory did indeed provide housing, but since most of the employees were locals, few ever took advantage of it.
The HR representative assud a two-bedroom apartnt ant soone else would be living there as well, so she asked, "Alright. Who else will be staying there besides Yara Nolan?"
Wyatt Winslow said in a low voice, "Just Yara Nolan. And don’t assign anyone else to that apartnt for the next two months."
The HR representative nodded. "Understood, President Winslow."
Yara Nolan was pleasantly surprised to learn about the free housing—it would save him several hundred yuan a month. He quickly called his mother to tell her she didn’t need to co anymore.
But Robin Roland was already at the train station, having just bought a standing-room-only ticket. "They’re providing housing? That’s wonderful! But honey, I already bought my ticket. It’s for the nine o’clock train. I’ll get in tomorrow morning."
"I’m not going to return it. I’m coming to see you, and I can bring a little sothing for Holly while I’m at it."
...
At six o’clock, Holly Winslow was at ho with all the ingredients for dinner prepped and ready. All that was left was the final stir-frying. "Honey, could you call Dad and them to see when they’ll be ho? I’m about to start cooking."
"Okay." After wiping his hands clean, Mortir Quincy called Yara Nolan. The two of them were already on their way.
"Honey, you can start cooking now."
"Okay." Holly Winslow handed him the spatula and said matter-of-factly, "You cook."
Mortir Quincy chuckled as he took the spatula. "Oh? So the wifey is making her husband do all the work now?"
"Hehe, my husband is the better cook. I’ll go make so orange juice."
With that, Holly Winslow grabbed the juicer. Once the juice was ready, she took a sip, and the sourness instantly made her face pucker. She smacked her lips a couple of tis. "It’s a little sour."
Catching her licking her lips out of the corner of his eye, Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow. "Let have a taste."
Holly Winslow poured a little into a cup and handed it to him, only to see the scoundrel bypass the cup completely and lick her lips instead. "..."
Mortir Quincy said with a grin, "Tastes pretty sweet to ."
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