Chapter 692
Chapter 692:
Rutherford paused to think. “If I had to pick just one, which do you think would be best?”
“That depends on what she values most,” Stella replied simply.
He thought for a second and said, “She’s got a lot of paintings in her office. I’ve seen pieces by both classic and modern artists.”
Stella nodded. She scribbled down an address and handed it over. “This gallery has work from a wide range of artists, and everything’s the real deal. If you trust me, you can mention my name—they’ll give you a discount.” She tossed in the joke casually, smiling.
If he really did go, she’d probably just call ahead and have the gallery waive the price. After all, he’d just saved her life and delivered the data she’d been desperate for. A painting was the least she could offer in return.
Rutherford glanced at the address, then asked gently, “Ms. Gilbert, when would you be free to go with me?”
Stella froze for a second, then quickly gathered herself. “Mr. Schoenberg, my forearm’s injured. The doctor’s orders were to rest, so I’m afraid I can’t accompany you right now.”
It was a polite way of declining—one anyone with social awareness would pick up on. Knowing Rutherford, he wouldn’t insist.
And sure enough, Rutherford gave a faint smile. “My apologies for being presumptuous.”
“I hope you find the perfect gift,” Stella said in a light tone, smoothly steering the conversation away from that awkward moment.
Rutherford looked at her for a long beat, his hands cradling the warm coffee mug. His voice came low and steady, with a calm warmth beneath it.
“Ms. Gilbert, have you considered what I brought up during our last conversation?” Rutherford asked.
The mention of their previous talk made Stella pause. The topic was no mystery to her. Rutherford wanted to see if she would be willing to explore a relationship with him.
Thoughts raced through Stella’s mind, but one image kept surfacing. For some reason, William’s face lingered, refusing to leave her thoughts. As she tried to decide what to say, the memory of screeching tires from her recent brush with danger came back with a chill.
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Try as she might, she found herself unable to stop thinking about William. Frustration built as she tried to focus on the present.
Stella lowered her gaze, then spoke with honesty. “I appreciate your offer, Rutherford, but after giving it real thought, I feel we’re better suited as friends.”
Rutherford took her reply in stride. Nothing about his face suggested surprise, yet what he asked next caught her off guard.
“Ms. Gilbert, when you turned me down just now, did you picture William’s face?”
The question landed like a stone in her chest. Stella gripped her hands tightly in her lap, almost like a schoolchild put on the spot by a teacher, anxiety prickling in her veins.
Rutherford’s tone remained gentle, without a hint of accusation. All he wanted was the truth behind her answer. When Stella remained quiet, it was clear to him what was going on.
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