Chapter 122: A Proper Helping Hand?
"Going home?" Caroline Whitman asked.
Adrian Grant opened the car door for her. "We’re eating first."
Whether it was a workday or the weekend, six or seven in the evening was always peak rush hour.
It was nearly seven-thirty by the time they reached their destination.
The elevator went straight to the top floor.
The moment the doors opened, Caroline Whitman froze for a second.
The vast restaurant was empty, with lights illuminating only the area by the windows. Every table held a candelabra, but only the one in the very center was lit, obviously reserved just for them.
There was no music, no murmur of other patrons. It was so quiet that the sound of her high heels on the carpet was exceptionally clear.
Adrian Grant walked half a step ahead, leading her by the hand at a steady pace.
Arriving at the floor-to-ceiling windows, they found the table already set with white porcelain plates, silver cutlery, and a bottle of red wine left out to breathe.
Adrian Grant pulled out her chair, and as Caroline Whitman sat down, she glanced up at him.
He said nothing, only offering the slightest smile before walking around to take his seat opposite her.
Once seated, Caroline Whitman gazed out the window, the brilliant nightscape of half of Kingsport spreading out before her.
She drew her gaze back, letting it fall on the flickering candlelight before her. Her eyes lifted again, finally resting on his face, alternately illuminated and shadowed by the flame.
"Well, President Grant, aren’t you pulling out all the stops tonight?"
A corner of her mouth twitched. She couldn’t resist breaking the romantic, intimate atmosphere.
Neither of them had spoken a word since getting into the car. Her question was the first thing either of them had said.
It wasn’t as if they’d never eaten together before, but this was the first time she’d been in a situation where they were the only two diners in an entire restaurant.
Caroline’s thoughts even began to wander. ’So, is this the standard treatment from a villainous, domineering CEO character?’
Adrian Grant chuckled. "It’s the first day of our relationship. I didn’t want us to be disturbed."
"Oh. Then why not eat at home? A home-cooked meal would have been very meaningful, you know," Caroline Whitman said, blinking.
His eyes crinkled with a smile as he looked at her. "We’re not short on one meal. There’ll be plenty of chances in the future. Just tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll make it for you."
Caroline Whitman raised an eyebrow. "In that case, will you need me to lend a hand next time?"
To her surprise, Adrian Grant’s eyes narrowed into a smile. "If you’re willing, nothing would be better."
"..."
For some reason, whenever Caroline Whitman saw that particular smile on Adrian Grant’s face, she got the feeling he was scheming something.
’Or maybe I just have a dirty mind that sees everything in a dirty light.’
After a moment of hesitation, she decided it was better not to ask if he meant "lending a hand" in the literal sense.
She didn’t want to give Adrian Grant another reason to laugh at her.
Just then, a waiter arrived to serve their meal.
They fell silent again. The "no talking during meals" rule was still in effect.
However, a ringing phone broke the silence just as they finished their meal and set down their cutlery.
Caroline Whitman picked up her phone from the table. A glance at the screen showed it was the little guy, Ryan Grant.
Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen him in a week.
They hadn’t been in touch for two or three days since Thursday. For Ryan Grant to have held out this long was pushing his limits.
When she answered, Ryan Grant’s pitiful voice came through the phone.
"Mommy, Mommy, I miss you."
"Where are you? Why is it so dark where you are?"
"And Daddy? Why aren’t you two together?"
The moment she picked up, a stream of questions poured out in the child’s sweet, boyish voice.
She had to admit, Ryan Grant still hadn’t forgotten his duty of checking up on their relationship.
Caroline Whitman had no choice but to flip the camera and aim it at Adrian Grant’s face, mostly obscured by the darkness.
"Your dad’s right here."
"Oh, you’re having a candlelight dinner?" The moment the camera flipped, Ryan Grant spotted the flickering flame on the video call.
"Daddy, did you win Mommy over? Can you come get me now?"
The little munchkin’s round face filled the screen, his big, dark eyes wide with anticipation.
Caroline Whitman looked up at Adrian Grant, her curiosity piqued. "Win me over? What’s that about?"
Ryan Grant quickly blurted out, "Daddy said he scared you a few days ago, and that’s why you were hiding from him on purpose. Right, Mommy?"
Caroline Whitman was speechless. "..."
’So he knew I was avoiding him...’
Adrian Grant calmly took the phone from her and changed the subject. "Did you have fun playing with your grandpas today?"
"I did! Great-Grandpa even said you and Mommy should come along next time."
"..."
"..."
"Daddy, Mommy, when are you coming to get me?" Ryan Grant’s mind jumped back to the crucial question.
The thought that Adrian Grant had tomorrow off—meaning the two of them would finally be alone together—made a subconscious shyness well up in Caroline Whitman, and she blurted out:
"Tomorrow."
"The day after tomorrow," Adrian Grant said at the exact same time.
’Having a child around as a buffer might make things a little less awkward,’ she thought.
Caroline Whitman shot a guilty glance at Adrian Grant. Thankfully, he wasn’t looking her way.
Instead, he addressed the little munchkin on the screen, his tone casual. "Well, in that case, let’s have Ryan decide."
From Ryan Grant’s perspective on the other end of the call, he could clearly see his father’s familiar face.
He blinked his big, round eyes, trying to decipher his dad’s silent message.
Suddenly, the sound of massive fireworks erupting filled the air.
Caroline Whitman, still waiting for the little guy’s answer, was drawn by the commotion outside. She turned her head, her eyes widening at the sight of brilliant fireworks blooming outside the window.
Adrian Grant propped the phone on the table, aiming the camera at the spectacle. The little guy’s gasp of awe came through the speaker:
"Wow, fireworks!"
Ryan Grant’s sweet, boyish cry of awe brought Caroline Whitman back to the present. She stared at Adrian Grant. "You arranged this?"
Adrian Grant looked perfectly composed, answering in an unhurried tone. "Mm-hmm. My plan was to formally confess my feelings to you tonight. Who knew the best-laid plans often go awry."
"Fortunately, I had the ring with me last night. Otherwise, you really would have upstaged me." He smiled, then turned his head back toward the fireworks outside.
Caroline Whitman had seen this kind of overused trope countless times in TV shows and novels, but to have it happen to her in real life... The sense of being deeply moved was undeniably real.
She stared intently at his sharp, handsome profile. Her heart, once a placid lake, now rippled like its surface in a gentle rain.
Once the fireworks faded, Ryan Grant, who had been silently enjoying the show, finally spoke up in his soft, sweet voice:
"Mommy, Daddy, can you pick me up tomorrow afternoon? If you wait, you’ll have to go to work, and then I’ll only get to see you at night."
Ryan had clearly agonized over this, making a huge concession. He would leave the morning to them, but from the afternoon on, the whole family had to be together.
"Okay, that works. I’ll take you to your grandma’s house for dinner then."
Caroline thought for a moment. Franklin Whitman and Yolanda Young should be free tomorrow. It would be the perfect time to bring Ryan over and break the news to them.