Dylan Scott didn’t even glance at the menu. With practiced ease, he rattled off a few signature dishes and handed the menu back to the waiter, who stood respectfully by the table. He looked up, his lips curving into a faint smile as he watched Avery Bennett hesitate over the menu.
It was clear that she didn’t come from wealth. The extravagant prices on the menu left her struggling to make a decision.
Finally, Avery looked up and, in a calm tone, ordered two vegetable dishes before handing the menu back to the waiter.
Under the soft lighting, her eyes resembled a misty bamboo forest after the rain, shrouded in a hazy, indistinct glow. Yet her expression remained composed, unfazed by the opulence of the restaurant.
She wore a simple, off-white suit with a delicate embroidered flower at the collar. The high neckline accentuated her porcelain-like skin, giving her an air of natural elegance, as if she carried the subtle fragrance of orchids.
As she lowered her head to sip her tea, a few strands of her bangs fell into her eyes. Without thinking, Dylan leaned forward and gently brushed them behind her ear.
Avery looked up, startled, her wide, clear eyes meeting his with a hint of defensiveness, like a cautious rabbit.
“Avery Bennett, be my lover,” he blurted out suddenly, the words slipping out almost without thought.
Avery was visibly shocked, nearly choking on the hot tea she had just sipped. She swallowed quickly, ignoring the burning sensation in her throat.
“I’m sorry, I must have misheard…” Avery apologized, her voice steady.
“No, you heard me correctly. I’m serious. Be my lover, Avery Bennett,” Dylan said, his gaze fixed on her face, expecting her to react with delight.
“I’m sorry, but… I refuse,” Avery replied firmly, her eyes shining with a moonlit clarity. Her face, though free of makeup, radiated a natural beauty, her cool demeanor underscored by a quiet strength.
“Perhaps you don’t understand the offer I’m making…” Dylan began, his tone smooth and confident.
“No,” Avery interrupted, cutting through his air of superiority. “No matter what you offer, I… won’t accept it. Mr. Scott, I may be poor, but I’m not willing to sell myself for…”
Her voice trailed off, her emotions getting the better of her.
“Maybe you’re not aware of the terms I’m proposing…” Dylan continued, still composed, a faint smile playing on his lips.
He was a refined man, charming and enigmatic when he smiled, yet dignified and poised when he didn’t. These contrasting qualities somehow coexisted seamlessly within him.
His pale blue eyes flickered with a hint of mockery, as if amused by what he perceived as her feigned innocence, her attempt to play hard to get.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Scott. No matter what you offer—even if it’s a blank check—my answer remains the same: no. Thank you for the meal.”
Without waiting for his response, Avery pushed back her chair and hurried out of the restaurant.
By the time Dylan processed what had happened, she had already pushed through the glass doors and disappeared into the bustling street.
As he watched her figure vanish into the crowd, Dylan couldn’t quite believe it. She had just… rejected him? The woman he wanted?