Chapter 6

“I need to apologize to her for my foolishness and rash decision-making in the past. I owe her that, at the very least,” Miranda said.

Winter nearly choked on her wine. She coughed twice, reluctance evident on her face. “Spare me, please. You know she was the only one I failed and had to retake in my entire college career. I used to get chills whenever I saw her. Also, she’s probably forgotten me. I’m nobody to her. So, I don’t think I can help you.”

Miranda saw Winter’s reluctance to face Christine and didn’t push her.

“However,” Winter said, her sly eyes glinting, swiftly changing the subject, “I know someone who could help.”

“Huh?”

“Remember my cousin, Paul?”

Miranda nodded. “Of course.”

Paul Jefferson was the youngest youth leader in the country in the physics field. Last year, he’d been named to Nature Magazine’s list of the top ten youngest and most influential scientists. He’d studied applied biological science under Christine as an undergraduate and published five papers in two years. He was a genius with a bright future in biological sciences. However, he switched to physics, causing quite a stir. Still, it proved that anyone is capable of anything with dedication. Now, he’s a major figure in international physics.

Since Miranda wasn’t in Paul’s year, she considered herself his junior. She’d heard of him when she started college and only learned he was Winter’s cousin after they became friends. For the past few years, he’d been a researcher at a physics institute abroad, returning home only three months ago.

“Paul asked about Dr. Young’s condition two days ago. He hasn’t had time to visit yet. I think you could visit her with him.”

The more Winter considered it, the better the idea seemed. She called Paul.

The phone rang twice.

Miranda heard a low, cool voice: “What is it?”

Winter briefly explained. Rustling sounds suggested Paul was busy. The call lasted less than a minute.

“Done. He’ll meet you at Cielo Gourmet at 2:00 p.m. tomorrow. You can discuss things then.”

Winter took Miranda’s hand. “Have a good night’s rest. You can talk to him tomorrow.”

Miranda nodded. “Thanks. I know what to do.”

The next day, Miranda left half an hour early. She arrived with two minutes to spare—perfect timing.

She entered the restaurant. The waiter led her to a table where a young man sat by the window. His head was slightly tilted; he sipped his coffee with a faint expression. He wore a simple white collared shirt, black trousers, and gold-rimmed glasses. Sunlight illuminated his profile, making him look like a beautiful painting.

Miranda glanced at her own attire: a white T-shirt, jeans, hair in a ponytail, no makeup. She coughed, wondering if she was underdressed.

Paul noticed her. He turned. “Have a seat. What would you like to drink?”

His low, magnetic voice made Miranda’s ears tingle. She quickly composed herself, sat down, and said, “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Paul pushed up his glasses. “I didn’t wait long; I arrived five minutes early. I only have 30 minutes today for this meeting. Is that enough?”

“That’s enough.”

The waiter took Miranda’s lemonade order.

Paul went straight to the point. “What do you want me to do when we meet Dr. Young?”

His bluntness was appreciated. Miranda stated her objective clearly.

“Dr. Young’s been discharged. I don’t know where she lives, so I hoped to go with you. If possible…,” Miranda’s eyes glinted. “If she gets mad, could you calm her down? It’s not good for her health.”

Paul seemed amused.

Miranda continued, “You’re busy, so you can choose the time and date.”

Paul nodded. “We’ll visit her in two days.”

Miranda thanked him. Holding her lemonade, she asked, “Why are you so willing to help?”

Paul’s dark eyes fixed on her. After a moment, he said, “Because you’re Miranda Sutton.”

Miranda was confused. “What do you mean?”

Paul sipped his coffee. “Dr. Young once told me about three great regrets in her life. First, life’s too short for all the research she wanted to do. Second, she had no children. Third, you, Miranda Sutton.”

Miranda was stunned. A sharp pain pierced her heart.

Paul’s hawk-like gaze scrutinized her, then softened. Though he’d never met her before, he’d heard of her. There had to be something special about her for Christine to consider her a major regret.

Miranda’s throat went dry. She thought of Christine’s disappointment.

Paul wrote a number on a piece of paper. “My phone number.”

Miranda looked at his neat handwriting.

“This is the tiramisu you ordered.” The waiter placed the cake on the table, silently judging the couple. Hansel looked bored and irritated, while Quinn, dressed in a stylish outfit and carrying an Hermès bag, chatted away oblivious to his displeasure.

“Hansel, I heard from Mrs. Johnson you have gastric problems. We have a doctor at home who specializes in that. Maybe next time…”

Hansel idly toyed with his lighter, humming in response. This blind date was Evelyn’s doing. He didn’t want to be rude, but he wasn’t interested in Quinn. His gaze drifted, then sharpened. Across the room, Miranda sat opposite a man, a faint smile on her face. Quinn’s voice grated on his nerves. He smiled coldly. “I’m leaving.”

Paul’s schedule was tight. The 30 minutes were his maximum free time. Miranda understood. They left together. Paul held the door for her.

Miranda smiled. “Thank you.”

At the curb, Paul said, “My ride’s here.”

Miranda said, “See you in two days.”

She watched him go, then turned to face a pair of cold, disdainful eyes.

“I see you’ve found your next target.”