"You're lying," Byron said, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. "There's no need to pretend to be so dignified when you've fallen in love with someone else."
"Fallen in love with someone else?" Maeve thought, stunned for a moment. Her phone rang.
She glanced at Byron and answered, his oppressive gaze upon her. "Hello? Ah, good evening, Gilbert. How have you been lately? Is your health okay?"
"It has improved a lot," Gilbert replied, smiling. "With you thinking about me, how can I not be well? Maeve, are you free tonight?"
"Yes, I am," Maeve said politely. "What can I do for you, Gilbert?"
"If you have time, come to my place for dinner with Byron. I've had some trouble with my vegetables and need your help."
Maeve hesitated. "Gilbert, wait a moment. I'll hand the phone to Mr. . . . to Byron."
She pressed the receiver down and whispered to Byron, "Mr. McDaniel, Gilbert wants us to have dinner. Can you politely decline? At a time like this… it wouldn't be appropriate for you to bring us to dinner."
Understanding, Byron's eyes darkened. "Give me the phone."
Maeve handed it over.
"Grandpa?" Byron said calmly. "Yes, it's me. I'm free now; I'll bring her to your place shortly."
Maeve's eyes widened. After speaking with Gilbert, Byron returned the phone. "'Grandpa wants us to go to his place now.'"
Holding the phone, Maeve looked at him, dumbfounded. "Mr. McDaniel, didn't we agree you'd come up with an excuse...?"
"You're not willing to lie, and you want me to be the bad guy instead?" Byron's expression was unreadable.
"No," Maeve explained. "I'm just worried that after our divorce, it would be awkward seeing your grandfather again." She thought, I respect and like Gilbert, but since my relationship with Byron isn't going to last, it's better to cut off contact as soon as possible.
Her meticulous consideration, even after the divorce, made Byron's expression even colder.
"If you're unwilling, you don't have to go. It makes no difference if you're not there."
He strode out of the corridor, leaving Maeve behind. She bit her lip, conflicted for a few seconds before catching up.
Chapter III
Since I've already agreed, I don't want to let Gilbert down, she thought.
Half an hour later, in a suburban garden bungalow, Maeve was surprised by the classical, elegant décor after following Byron inside. She expected a top-notch wealthy family like the McDaniels to prefer luxury, but the style was homely.
Byron explained calmly, "This was my grandmother's residence. Grandpa usually lives here alone; my parents live at the main house in Maple Hill."
"But I remember Maple Hill is a tourist area now," Maeve said, confused.
"Yes. Our family owned that hill for a century. Later, it was handed over to the state, but we retained the right to live there."
Maeve was stunned. They handed over a hill to the state? That requires immense wealth and family influence. Ordinary people can only look up to them. A dazed look flashed across her eyes. Fortunately, I've long seen the gap between me and Byron, so I don't feel disappointed, just a little sad.
"Grandpa, you haven't recovered yet. You can't be out in the wind," Byron's reprimanding voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
She saw Gilbert squatting in the vegetable field, sleeves rolled up, wearing a straw hat and holding a hoe, looking like an old farmer. His assistant held an umbrella over him, looking helpless.
Ignoring his grandson's displeasure, Gilbert smiled and waved. "Maeve, you're here. My seedlings are sick."
Maeve glanced at Byron, then squatted beside Gilbert. She examined the wilted seedlings and the soil.
"Gilbert, the soil is too wet, causing root rot. You planted them too close together; they're competing for nutrients and water."
Gilbert's face fell. "Does that mean they can't be saved?"
Maeve shook her head. "Of course. Use the plot next to it; replant them properly. They'll live."
Gilbert smiled. "You really know your stuff. Unlike Byron, who just stands around like a signpost."
Byron was speechless. Maeve laughed. Although I haven't seen Byron at work, I know being CEO of the McDaniel Group isn't easy. But to Gilbert, he's just a signpost.
"Grandpa, go rest; I'll help you," Byron said seriously, removing his watch and rolling up his sleeve, revealing a strong forearm. It was dazzlingly attractive.
Maeve was dazed, quickly averting her gaze.
Gilbert beamed. "Alright. Just don't kill my seedlings. If you don't know something, ask Maeve. Don't assume you know everything."
"Is this from countless failures?" Byron asked.
"Rascal! How dare you?" Gilbert stomped his foot. "With Maeve here, you'll eat my carrots before spring!"
"Your rest is my greatest wish," Byron replied.
Gilbert ignored him and walked to another plot. Maeve watched their bickering, her eyes crinkling with amusement. She stifled her laughter.
Byron noticed. "What's so funny? You think I don't know how to grow vegetables?"
Maeve lowered her head, suppressing her laughter. "You can't tell leeks from scallions, and you claim to know how to grow vegetables?"
Byron recalled the incident. He pursed his lips. "That's different. Don't underestimate me."
He squatted and began transplanting seedlings. Maeve was surprised he actually did it. His slender fingers, usually clean, were stained with mud and leaves. He was a clean freak, yet he didn't even frown. His profile was unbelievably sexy. Maeve's heart raced.
Noticing her gaze, Byron turned, his blue eyes unfathomable. "Maeve, I'm very good-looking, huh?"
The final "0" and the repeated website promotion were removed as they were extraneous to the story's narrative. I also corrected some minor inconsistencies and improved the flow of the dialogue.