Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Looking at Joy Sheridan on the floor, Quentin Blackwood carried her to the nearby sofa and immediately called for a doctor.

As Quentin picked her up, the corner of Joy’s mouth curled up. ’See? I knew it,’ she thought. ’Quentin still cares about me.’

The doctor said Joy was just overworked and had likely fainted from low blood sugar due to not eating. She would be fine after some rest.

Quentin arranged for someone to look after Joy and was busy until the afternoon, not getting a wink of sleep.

In the afternoon, Old Master Sheridan finally woke up. Seeing Quentin at his side, he called out to him, "Quentin..."

"Elder Sheridan, I’ll go get the doctor."

The doctor came quickly and examined Old Master Sheridan. He was awake, and there were no major issues. He would be able to leave the hospital after a period of recuperation.

"I’ve troubled you," said Elder Sheridan.

"It’s what I should do." He had always remembered his debt to the Sheridan family.

"Joy, she..."

"She’s been taking care of you for the past two days and is a bit tired, so she’s resting. If you need anything, you can tell me."

"It’s nothing, really. I’m just worried about her. How did I suddenly end up in the hospital?"

Quentin said, "A maid poisoned you. Fortunately, it was discovered early."

"The company... has everything been alright these past two days?" Besides Joy, Old Master Sheridan’s biggest worry was the company.

"I’ve contained the news of your hospitalization, but two of the shareholders found out. They’ve been making moves these past two days, but I’ve suppressed them. President Sheridan, I believe the company needs an heir."

Old Master Sheridan sighed. "Joy’s heart isn’t in the company. I’ve spoiled her since she was a child. If I were to pass away one day, she’s the one I’d worry about most. I’ve been searching for a suitable candidate all these years, but I haven’t found one. I’m afraid of what will become of Joy when I’m gone."

He looked at Quentin. "I know you don’t have those kinds of feelings for Joy, but Quentin, if I really am gone one day, for the sake of the help I gave you in the past, can you promise to help me look after her?"

Quentin’s lips tightened. Old Master Sheridan was bringing up the favor from all those years ago.

Perhaps realizing his words were asking too much, Old Master Sheridan sighed and said, "Forget it, forget it. Just let her be alone and miserable in the future. She brought this upon herself."

Quentin said, "If there’s anything I can do to help in the future, I will do my best."

"Thank you, Quentin." Old Master Sheridan knew that you couldn’t force matters of the heart.

But with Joy’s temperament, he was truly worried.

He had carefully selected all the servants at home. After so many years, why would one suddenly poison him?

Even if those few shareholders had bribed someone, why now of all times?

By the time Joy found out her grandfather was awake and came over, Quentin was already gone.

"Grandpa, where’s Quentin?" Joy didn’t even ask about Old Master Sheridan’s condition; her first words were about Quentin.

"He had something to do, so he left."

"How could you let him leave? You..." When Joy saw her grandfather’s expression, she instantly transformed back into the obedient granddaughter, throwing herself into Old Master Sheridan’s arms. "Grandpa, I was so worried about you! You scared me to death."

The old man patted her back. "There, there, don’t be scared. My dear Joy isn’t scared. Even if Grandpa really does pass away one day, I’ll watch over you from heaven."

Joy nodded. She knew her grandfather treated her the best, but that wasn’t what she wanted. What she wanted was to be with Quentin.

’Grandpa did Quentin a huge favor, so Quentin will listen to whatever he says,’ she thought. ’So why won’t he just tell Quentin to be with me!’

"Then, Grandpa, you have to promise to help me get together with Quentin, okay? You know I like him the most!"

The old man’s eyes flickered, but in the end, he let out a deep sigh.

He doted on his granddaughter more than anyone. If Joy really liked Quentin this much...

...

Ivy Sherwood hadn’t been in touch with Quentin much these past two days either. Every time they spoke on the phone, she could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

"Silas Blackwood’s wedding is tomorrow. It’s okay if you can’t make it back. I’ll be sure to witness your dear nephew’s wedding on behalf of his dear uncle!"

A light chuckle came from Quentin’s end of the line. "Mm, okay."

Even on the phone, he didn’t say much. It was usually Ivy who did all the talking.

Ivy would share little things from her day, like what she did or what she ate—all very simple things.

She used to think Quentin would get tired of listening, but he told her to keep going.

"Are you still just as busy these days?" Ivy asked.

She hadn’t felt this way before. Now, she wasn’t sure if it was because their relationship had changed, but even though Quentin had only been back in Aethelgard for a short while, she found herself missing him terribly.

Perhaps "missing him" wasn’t the most accurate way to put it. More precisely, she wanted to hug him and tell him he didn’t have to work so hard.

"Yeah. Old Master Sheridan is still in the hospital, and there’s also some work at DG to handle."

Quentin was now doing the work of two companies by himself.

Quentin had also told Ivy about the Sheridan family’s situation. He had explicitly stated that he returned to Aethelgard because of them, not wanting Ivy to misunderstand anything.

"And you still have time to be here chatting idly with me."

"You talk. I’ll listen."

"So you’re on the phone with me while handling work, right? A big shot is a big shot, able to multitask like that. Us mere mortals could never."

When Ivy was on the phone with Quentin, she usually couldn’t focus on anything else.

"Heh." Quentin’s low chuckle came through the phone. "You don’t need to do anything else. Just focus on talking to me."

"Talk about what? About how you should go get some rest!"

"I’ll go after I finish what I’m working on."

"You’re such a liar. You say that every time," Ivy grumbled.

In the end, the one who said he’d rest didn’t, while the one who hadn’t said she would, fell asleep mid-conversation.

Late into the night, at three in the morning, Quentin was still at the office handling work. His phone sat beside him. There was no sound coming from it, only the pulsing of the notification light. His call with Ivy was still connected.

Just like every other day, Quentin would usually work until the middle of the night. The difference was, now he wasn’t alone. There was someone on the other end of the line keeping him company.

On his desk sat a thick desk calendar. The cleaning lady would flip it to the current day every morning.

Quentin glanced at the date. It was already past midnight, so he flipped the calendar to the next day.

It was the day of Silas Blackwood’s wedding.

Quentin’s eyes darkened. There was still a mountain of work piled up. The man who should have been resting picked up another file.

She couldn’t stay awake and had already fallen asleep, while he was still dealing with work.

If Ivy were still awake, she would have heard the occasional rustle of papers being flipped through, the scratch of a pen nib signing across a page, and sometimes, the crisp clatter of keys on a keyboard.

The call continued until Ivy’s phone ran out of battery and automatically disconnected.