After speaking, Gordon waited for Stuart's reply.

No one could guess how nervous he was. If the receptionist had looked up, she

would have seen tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

After a moment, Stuart's voice came from inside the room. "Come in."

Gordon pushed the door open and stood before Stuart, his posture impeccably respectful. "Mr. Gonzales, you were looking for me."

"Mr. Sylvester." Stuart looked up at Gordon, his expression unreadable.

Mr. Sylvester? The formal address was more frightening than a reprimand.

Gordon was already unsettled by Stuart's unexpected visit, and now this title made his heart pound faster. "Mr. Gonzales, please, I'm just a junior. You can call me Vest."

He felt he was in no position to be called "Mr. Sylvester" by Stuart.

At this, the receptionist froze, thinking she'd misheard.

Vest? She never would have dreamed that the high and mighty Mr. Sylvester could be so humble. It felt surreal.

It seemed Gordon was far more serious about Caitlin than anyone had imagined. If he didn't care for her, he wouldn't be showing her father this level of deference.

Stuart continued, "I came today because there's something I need to discuss with you."

"If you needed to speak with me, you could have just sent someone to let me know," Gordon said quickly. "There was no need for you to come all this way yourself." He then gestured respectfully. "Mr. Gonzales, please, come upstairs."

Upstairs?

Stuart's eyes narrowed slightly. "To your office?"

"Yes."

"An office is for business. What I have to say is a private matter." Stuart paused. "Let's go to a tea room nearby."

Like Caitlin, Stuart preferred tea to coffee.

Gordon nodded slightly. "Of course. That was thoughtless of me."

Stuart's car was parked outside. They got into the back seat, one after the other.

No one spoke. The silence in the car felt heavy, almost stifling. Gordon sat rigidly upright, not even daring to sneeze, afraid of stirring the slightest displeasure.

For the first time in his life, time seemed to crawl by, each second an eternity. After what felt like ages, the car finally stopped. Gordon got out first.

"After you, Mr. Gonzales."

"Mm," Stuart acknowledged, getting out of the car.

As they entered the tea room, an attendant immediately came to greet them. "Mr. Sylvester, right this way."

Stuart glanced at him with a hint of surprise. "You come here often?"

In this day and age, most young people preferred coffee. Yet, the moment Gordon walked in, he was recognized. It was clear he was a regular.

Gordon nodded slightly. "Yes, I do."

"Tea is good. It calms the mind," Stuart remarked.

"Yeah," Gordon replied with a smile.

Guided by the attendant, they arrived at the private room Gordon and Caitlin often frequented. The ambiance was serene. Gordon stepped forward and pulled out a chair. "Please, have a seat, sir."

"Thank you." Stuart nodded and sat down.

Gordon then added, "Sir, I have some Thé Sur Nuage stored here. Would you prefer

it brewed strong or light?"

Thé Sur Nuage, a tea no longer harvested, was incredibly rare. The

market price had surpassed ten

thousand a gram, making it mornet

precious than gold. It was a tea you couldn't buy even if you had the" money.

FindNovel.net

Stuart, a tea connoisseur, had tried to find Thé Sur Nuage before but had never

found a collector willing to sell.

"Strong," Stuart replied. "This tea is wasted if it's brewed light."

"Of course, sir."

Gordon immediately instructed the attendant to prepare the tea. About ten minutes later, the attendant returned with a tea set and some pastries.

Gordon took the teapot and poured a cup for Stuart himself. "Be careful, sir, it's hot."

Stuart lifted the cup and took a sip. The flavor was strangely familiar. He looked at Gordon. "Did you give some of this to Freya?"

He had been drinking this tea frequently at home recently. The taste was unique-mellow, with a sweet aftertaste. Caitlin had just called black tea, and he hadn't thought more of it. He nevero imagined it was Thé Sur Nuage.

"Yes, sir," Gordon confirmed. "Twelve years ago, when Thé Sur Nuage was still

being sold, I bought over a dozen pounds of it."

A flicker of light passed through Stuart's eyes. No wonder everyone called Gordon a business prodigy.

Twelve years ago, the tea was still available, so most people only bought a small amount to try. Few would have bought more than ten pounds at once.

And although Gordon said "over a dozen pounds," Stuart knew the actual amount was likely much greater. The phrasing implied a quantity well beyond a simple number.

Gordon then added, "By the way, sir, these cakes are quite good. Please, try one." Stuart picked up a cake leisurely. "I came to see you today to talk about you and Freya."

Hearing this, Gordon immediately sat up straight, not even touching his own tea, looking like a student ready for a lecture. "Please, sir. I'm listening."

Stuart set down the pastry. "Are you serious about Freya?"

Gordon met his gaze, his eyes full of conviction: "Completely. Catie is the first girlfriend I've ever had, and the first person who's made me want to get married. She's the first the. and the last."

"Before I met Catie, I thought marriage was the death of love. But after meeting her, I've realized it's just the beginning."

Gordon used to be against marriage, scoffing at the love described in books. But now, he found himself yearning for that simple life: just the two of them, through every meal and every season.