Because You Are My Lady

Chapter 19

As soon as Stanley came home, he saw Sharon, who was sitting by the door, cupping her chin and waiting for him. He remained sitting in the car and arched his eyebrows at the bizarre sight. It was rare for her to sit by the door at such a late hour.

He opened the door and got out of the car. Sharon rushed over like a puppy wagging its tail happily at its master. "Honey, why did you come back so late? You haven't eaten yet, have you? Come in quick."

Sharon smiled flatteringly.

Honey?

That was unusually intimate.

Stanley narrowed his eyes, remained calm and quiet.

"Come on. Let me get this." She took the heavy briefcase from him and put it aside. Then, she quickly found the slippers in the shoe cabinet and squatted down with a smile on her face. "Honey, come, change into these slippers. The food is heated. You can eat them when you get in."

Looking at her beaming face that was as sunny as a sunflower, Stanley blurted for the first time after he got home, "Is there something you want to ask from me?"

He was so sharp! Did he literally read her mind?

Sharon chuckled and said politely, "No, no. I heard from Hazel that you work very hard throughout the day. As your wife, I feel ashamed that I have never taken good care of my husband."

"Oh? Are you really not asking me for a favor?"

"Of course not!"

Raising his eyebrows, Stanley's mouth curved into a smile. He changed into the indoor slippers and walked to the living room.

Sharon slapped herself behind him. 'Why am I so stupid? It was such a good opportunity to bring it up. D*mn, he even asked about it. Why was I so melodramatic? I missed the best chance to bring it up!'

Gritting her teeth in regret, Sharon followed him silently.

At the dining table.

Sharon put in a lot of effort by serving him like a servant. "Honey, try this. This is very delicious, and this, and this too. This fish is very tender; it melts in your mouth. It's very delicious." "Hey, honey, are you thirsty? I'll bring you a cup of tea."

"You finished your rice. I'll get you a bowl of rice. Honey, pease wait a minute."

She had used up a year's worth of sweet talks and 'honey' in a single dinner.

Throughout the dinner, Sharon was pacing here and there that she was drenched in sweat.

The man sat there elegantly. There was not even a single wrinkle on his well- cut and expensive bespoke shirt.

His deep eyes were fixated on her, quietly wondering what she had got up her sleeves.

After finishing the last mouthful of food, Stanley stood up. "I still have some business to deal with. Take your time."

Then he got up and went to the second floor.

Watching him go up the stairs, Sharon still did not say what she intended to say.

Alas.

She sat in a chair and sighed.

Biting her spoon, she knocked her head and cheered herself up. "Be brave. Anyway, you already owe him a favor. It doesn't matter if you owe him one more!"

She knew that she was contradicting her own statement. She had just thought that she didn't want to owe him anything anymore, but yet she was so attentive to him now for a favor.

But it was the only way. Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

The Jones Group offered excellent benefits, and they paid well. If she was accepted, she would be able to do an internship there, which would not only help her monetarily but its name would also leave a great impression on her resume.

Thinking of this, Sharon made up her mind and finished her meal in a huff.

Worse came to worse, she could just rip her face off, crush it under her feet, and get rid of the d*mned dignity.

Being shameless could go a long way!

On the second floor.

In the study.

"Thump! Thump! Thump!" There were knocks on the door.

Stanley said in a low voice, "Come in."

Taking a deep breath, Sharon opened the door and went in. It was dark in the study. He was sitting on the desk chair with his shirt sleeves half rolled up, revealing his firm forearms. There were some documents scattered beside his hand. He looked at her quietly with his black eyes.

He wore a pair of rimless glasses on the bridge of his straight nose. There was less of his fierce and cold aura and more of ₐ scholarly vibe.