“I think I’m starting to like you more and more,” I whispered.
The next morning, I left early for the office, as there were urgent matters that needed my attention at Kingsley Tech.
Hours later, while reviewing quarterly forecasts, movement on the security monitor caught my attention. Charlotte had arrived at the building.
“What are you looking at that has you in such a good mood?” my assistant noticed my expression and asked.
“Looking at a kitten,” I answered, waving him away.
I leaned back in my chair, turning slightly to the side, my index finger pressed against my lips to hide my smile as I magnified the elevator footage to observe her every micro–expression.
In the elevator, Charlotte was talking to herself: “How do I explain why I came? Will he think I can’t eat without him? What if he’s not in the office? What if he’s in a meeting? What if he has visitors?”
“This is so annoying! Why do I have to overthink so much just to bring him lunch?”
Listening to her muttering, a warmth spread through my chest.
When the elevator reached my floor, she bounced to my office door and knocked gently.
“Come in,” I called, unable to hide the pleasure in my voice.
Charlotte peeked her head through the doorway, flashing a bright little smile. “Hi, old man.”
“What brings you here? Did you sleep well?” I rose to greet her.
She entered and closed the door behind her. She placed food containers on my coffee table and sat on the sofa.
“I brought you lunch. Want to eat together?”
I sat across from her, helping to open the containers. “Of course.”
A knock at the door interrupted us. “Sir?” came my assistant’s familiar voice.
Charlotte turned toward the door.
I put down my utensils and said, “Come in.”
My assistant entered carrying several bags of cat food. “Sir, since your kitten has arrived, I thought you might need these. I know you’ve never had a pet before, so I brought all the cat food I buy for my own cat.”
He placed four bags of cat food on the floor, straightened up, and noticed Charlotte. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Kingsley.”
Charlotte nodded, clearly confused, chopsticks still between her lips.
My assistant looked around the room. “Sir, where is your kitten?”
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Chapter 37
I glanced at my petite, fluffy–haired wife. I tilted my chin slightly toward her. “Right here.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened, meeting my affectionate gaze. She reached out to playfully slap my arm. “Don’t call me your
kitten.”
My assistant looked horrified, realizing his mistake. He stared at the cat food on the floor, clearly processing the situation.
“Take the cat food back. Mine is too noble and needs to dine with me. Common cat food isn’t worthy of my precious kitten,” I said, enjoying Charlotte’s reaction.
Charlotte slapped my arm again. “Alexander, don’t give me nicknames.”
My assistant quickly gathered the bags and hurried out, leaving us alone once more.
Charlotte put down her chopsticks, pouting to express her dissatisfaction.
I smiled and said, “Because of you, I’m starting to like cats.”
This simple statement mysteriously improved her mood.
“So will you get a real cat as a pet?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Having you is enough.”
“What if I’m not here?”
“Then I wouldn’t like cats anymore.”
“So, don’t leave, okay?” The words escaped before I could stop them–the first time I had ever asked someone not to leave.
Charlotte’s expression turned serious, as if something heavy weighed on her chest. “Alexander, has someone left you before?”
My throat tightened. I couldn’t answer.
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