TPCF 88

CHAPTER 88………………………….

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Anita hurriedly stammered out an excuse.

“My hand just slipped, I mean…”

She bit down hard on her lip. To think that she had invited him to sit down, only to get sugar all over his pants. Surely he wouldn’t think she was making fun of him, would he?

Just as Anita was about to call Finian over to at least ask for a tissue, she noticed Finian and Lilliana clutching their stomachs with laughter behind her.

“Finian.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’d offer you a handkerchief, but I already gave mine to a lady earlier.”

The handkerchief Anita had received from Finian before was already ruined with chocolate stains. After hesitating a moment, she reached for a fresh napkin on the table, but Finian caught her wrist and gently pressed it back down.

“It’s against the party’s dress code. The outfits may be casual, but dirty clothes are disqualifying.”

Lilliana, who had been resting her chin on her hand and watching, drew an X in the air with her fingers. The man only smiled awkwardly and stayed seated.

Anita wondered why he insisted on enduring this. If it were her, she would have already fled. She managed to slip the napkin into her other hand unnoticed and quickly offered it to the man.

“I’m sorry. Would you at least use this?”

“Thank you for your kindness.”

His slumped shoulders seemed to straighten a little.

“Anita.”

Finian’s voice carried a scolding tone, but Anita pretended not to hear. She knew well enough that Finian wasn’t friendly toward this man, but leaving him in such a state didn’t feel right. Especially since it was her fault he’d gotten into trouble in the first place.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m—”

“Roy Krieger.”

Finian cut in coolly. Shocked by his rudeness, Anita turned to look at him. Finian only shrugged, as if he couldn’t imagine what the problem was.

“What? You know his name now, isn’t that enough? Does the process really matter?”

Catching a glimpse of Roy brushing custard cream off his clothes, Anita waited until he finished before rising to her feet. She had no idea why Lilliana and Finian were so wary of him, but she had no intention of inserting herself further into the middle of it.

“W-wait a moment…”

Roy reached out to catch her sleeve as she stood. Instinctively, Anita pulled her arm back, staring at him in surprise. Perhaps embarrassed by her sharp reaction, Roy rubbed at his chin awkwardly.

“It’s just… I still don’t know your name.”

“Anita Rodel.”

She offered her name simply.

“I’m going to step out for some fresh air.”

After excusing herself to Lilliana, she left. Once she moved away from the bright lights and crowd, she found herself on a quiet path.

Perhaps because the villa was built on a cliff, the garden felt like a terrace floating in the sky. A fence as tall as an adult man’s chest stood at its edge.

The ocean at night felt different from what she’d seen in the morning. The salty breeze was both refreshing and damp. Anita gazed at the dark sea for a while before stepping closer to the fence.

As she moved, she took a sip from the glass she had carried with her. She gave a hollow laugh. She had assumed it was juice, since its color was so opaque and rich, but it turned out to be alcohol.

Just one sip won’t hurt. She rationalized as she took another drink. The chill of the night air on her body eased just slightly.

When she set the half-emptied glass down on the flat edge of the fence, her brow furrowed. The dark red liquid sloshing inside looked ominous somehow.

“Just let it go.”

Finian was right. It wasn’t wise to cling to things that were already in the past.

Her body, warmed only briefly by the alcohol, soon grew cold again. She picked the glass back up, intending to return to the table. But then—

“Excuse me, Anita?”

“…!”

There had been no one there just a moment ago. From the dark path, a black silhouette suddenly appeared. Startled, Anita stumbled and nearly dropped her glass.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I should’ve made my presence known.”

The man spoke quickly, snatching the glass from her unsteady hand. She knew it wasn’t right to judge people by appearances, but his overly apologetic manner eased her guard slightly.

“Do you remember me? Well, of course—you just saw me, after all.”

He smiled in an exaggerated way, perhaps to cover his awkwardness.

“Yes. You’re Mr. Roy Krieger.”

Her now-empty hand folded across her body, almost like crossing her arms. The night wind was cold, and although her guard had lowered a little, he was still a stranger.

Whether he noticed her defensive posture or not, Roy stumbled over his next words.

“So, um… I don’t know if you’d be interested, but…”

He fidgeted with the glass in his hand, perhaps out of nerves. Anita’s gaze drifted from his face to his hands.

“You may not have heard, but I’m running a fine food business in Dever.”

“A business?”

The moment she heard the word, an uneasy feeling pricked at her. Anita asked the perfunctory question, all the while staring at the glass shifting from hand to hand. It tipped, spilling red liquid over his fingers.

“Ah, damn.”

Roy looked down in irritation at his wine-soaked hand. Finding nothing nearby to wipe it on, he instead moved toward Anita, apparently having given up.

“But that’s not the important thing right now… Miss Anita?”

Only then did she realize she had been slowly stepping backward.

“Sorry, but I’m not feeling well.”

“But this is a very important matter.”

Important to you, maybe.

Seeking her out while she was alone, suddenly bringing up business—it all reeked of a con.

The more she looked at him, the more he seemed like a swindler.