Maeve, blushing furiously, hastily pulled her underpants higher to cover them as discreetly as possible, mortified by her near-miss with the drying rack.

Just as she was fishing them out, Byron walked out. He caught sight of her, remembering the awkward lighting incident, and his cheeks flushed. He quickly grabbed his shoes.

"Zero," he said coolly, heading for the door.

"Okay," Maeve mumbled, trailing after him. They'd be heading back to her apartment, but to be safe, she'd prepared a backup plan. They could easily go to the office afterwards. Once they were both ready,

Maeve nodded. "Got it," she added softly. "Thanks for saving the decks last night. Sorry for causing so much trouble."

Byron glanced at her briefly. "As long as you realize..."

"Oh, is this Marvel?" a voice interrupted. Back for another part-time job? The shop owner came over with a welcoming smile.

Maeve suddenly remembered why she so frequently visited this spot during her college part-time jobs.

"Oh wow, is this your boyfriend? He's really handsome! You two make such a great couple," the owner gushed.

Embarrassed, Maeve quickly waved her hands. "No, no, he's not my boyfriend. You've got it wrong."

"Why so shy? It's only a matter of time, right? I'm rooting for you!"

"Really, it's not like that."

The owner, smiling knowingly, acted as if he hadn't heard her protest. "What can I get for you two? I can throw in a pizza just for you."

Realizing it was pointless to argue, Maeve numbly ordered some pastries and cereal.

The owner turned to prepare the food, and Maeve quickly leaned toward Byron. "Don't pay any attention to what he said," she whispered.

Byron gave a noncommittal hum, his expression unreadable.

They found a seat, and breakfast was served shortly after.

"You've been here before?" Byron asked.

"Yeah," Maeve's eyes softened with nostalgia. "My first part-time job in college was nearby. I worked as a gardener, taking care of rose bushes. They paid well, so I studied a lot about plant care to do the job right. Thanks to that, I can even grow vegetables on my balcony now."

"Roses," Byron's gaze flickered. In this area, the only place with rose bushes was the courtyard of his apartment. He thought, So, the gardener Archer hired to take care of them while I was away was actually Maeve? A complicated expression crossed Byron's face. He wondered, Should I call her simple or refreshingly down-to-earth? Most people wouldn't be so matter-of-fact, let alone proud, about doing menial work like gardening for someone else, but she spoke of it like it was a badge of honor. He suddenly found her harder to figure out.

Maeve took a taxi back to her apartment. Watching Byron mix drinks the night before had sparked a lot of inspiration for her. Coupled with the bartending tips she picked up from him, she now had everything she needed to finish Bonnie's illustration.

On the day she submitted the final work, Bonnie promptly transferred the remaining payment to Maeve's account.

Bonnie: [You really nailed it! The bartender at the bar and the whole play scenario got me so excited I almost had a nosebleed! You're still the same—able to capture the mood without needing anything explicit, and it's perfect!] Bonnie: [With you around, I'll never get tired of these husbands of mine.]

Sensing her excitement, Maeve smiled as she replied: [This layout and storyline were a new challenge for me too. I was worried you might not like it at first.]

Bonnie: [No way! You need to have more confidence in yourself.] Bonnie: [Are you still available to take on more commissions? How's the job hunt going?]

Maeve: [I haven't found anything yet. I've got a few other illustration orders lined up, so I'm pretty swamped.]

For some reason, all the résumés she sent out seemed to vanish into thin air—none of the companies she applied to had responded. But as she looked at her growing bank balance, Maeve couldn't help but feel the urge to kiss her phone screen. Once she completed the other commissions and received the final payments, she'd have a nice chunk of savings. Buying a house wouldn't be a distant dream anymore.

Just as she was relishing that thought, her phone pinged with a new message.

[The Graves family is demanding the return of the 200 thousand dollars engagement gift. Find a time to transfer the money back to my account. Stop delaying. If you can't pay up, just get divorced and win back Jeff's favor!] It was from Valda.

Maeve's mood instantly plummeted. She thought, 200 thousand dollars? Are they crazy? They took all that money and now expect me to pay it back? Do they really see me as some commodity? She replied: [Whoever spent the money should pay it back. You didn't think about me when you took the money, so why should I care about you now that it needs to be returned? The world doesn't work like that.]

Sending the message, Maeve flipped her phone face down on the table, biting her lip in frustration. She thought, "Why is it that every time I try to live a better life through my own efforts, someone has to slap me back into reality, telling me not to dream too big?"

At First Hospital, Gilbert's health had improved significantly. He could now get out of bed and even take walks in the park below the hospital, where he often chatted with others. But the moment he returned to his hospital room, he would start sighing.

"That brat Byron promised to bring someone for me to meet once I got better, but how many days has it been now? Still nothing," he complained. He worried that Byron had only said that to give him peace of mind during recovery and never really intended to follow through.

The assistant, recalling something Archer had let slip earlier, said, "Sir, I don't think he was lying. Lately, Mr. McDaniel seems to be staying at the woman's place." Gilbert perked up immediately. "Staying at her place? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I even checked with the staff at Mr. McDaniel's estate—they all said he hasn't been back in a while."

Gilbert's eyes lit up. "Great! That kid's finally come to his senses. Who is the woman? Where does she live? Who's in her family? Did you find out?"

The assistant shook his head honestly. "I only managed to get the address, nothing else."

Gilbert thought, Just the address isn't enough. He frowned deeply. "Well, if that's the case, I'll have to go see for myself."

"But sir, you're still recovering..."

Gilbert waved a dismissive hand. "It's just a quick visit; it won't take much out of me. I'll head right back after I meet her."

The assistant hesitated, then thought to himself, But you don't even know what she looks like...

Maeve had been holed up at home for two days, working nonstop on her commissions. When she realized the fridge was empty, she had no choice but to go out. Byron had been so busy lately that he was nowhere to be seen. The only reminder of him was the drinks that arrived at her door like clockwork every day. Not having to face him after that embarrassing incident at his place was a bit of a relief for her.

Leaving the supermarket, Maeve carried her groceries back to the apartment. As she approached, she noticed a small Tarot card stall had popped up downstairs. An elderly man dressed in traditional clothes sat there leisurely sipping coffee, while a young assistant stood beside him, holding a coffee pot.