Chapter 39


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    James ventured, “For you?”


    One look from Tyrone had James mentally kicking himself for his casual address, “I–I understand. On


    it.”


    “Find out who that guy is.”


    Internally, James was groaning. Which guy? Could he get a hint, please? Luckily, he was quick; it


    struck him- probably that dude in the photo with Quintessa.


    “Got it.”


    “And I want to know everything about her for the past three years.”


    “Yes, sir,” James nodded.


    Once outside, a headache throbbed at James‘ temples. Running errands for Mr. York was surely


    Shirley, the secretary’s job, not his.


    He shook his head. Tyrone wanted her whereabouts over three years now, after all this time of


    indifference. Men were so fickle.


    Ha


    His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, surprised; it was Rachel, his brow furrowing in annoyance. He


    wasn’t fond of Rachel and promptly hung up the call. Whatever she wanted, it couldn’t be good.


    Quintessa had hoped that tweaking Tyrone’s ego would brighten her mood, if only a little.


    But her own spirits plummeted as shey in bed, the brief flicker of joy extinguished. After waiting at


    home with no news for two days, insomnia took hold.


    The dawn was breaking, and she had yet to fall asleep.


    Without turning on the lights, she stepped onto the balcony in her pajamas and lit at cigarette, mocking


    herself. Was tweaking Tyrone really worth celebrating?


    She did it for a moment of delight, yet ticking Tyrone off would eventually just set herself up for trouble


    since the situation was already tough.


    However, she seriously couldn’t just bite the bullet..


    Quintessa was sick of this plight; there were still tons of things she needed to do. She must find a


    breakthrough, unwilling to remain trapped in this limbo.


    As she was lost in thought, amotion from the neighboring balcony snapped her out of her reverie.


    A man and a woman were there, seeking thrills in the dead of night.


    The woman, bracing against the railing and gasping loudly, eximed, “No one’s watching, right?”


    17.06


    The man, cigarette dangling from his lips and clothes neat, replied coolly, “So what if they are? You


    wanted excitement. Scared of an audience now?”


    Upon hearing his words, Quintessa paused. These apartments‘ balconies were open style, each of


    which was merely two meters away; if it weren’t so dark, she could see everything quite clearly.


    She smirked. First time seeing the neighbors – should she greet them?


    As she contemted snapping a photo, she remembered her phone had been stolen by that jerk.


    Shaking her head in disappointment, she lit another cigarette; since she found it hard to sleep,


    watching the free midnight show would be a perfect choice.


    The woman, catching a glimpse of the glowing ember on Quintessa’s balcony, screamed, pushing the


    man behind her and bolted, leaving her underwear there.


    Leaning against the railing, Quintessa felt bored and prepared to head back inside when the man,


    fixing his clothes, remarked, “Enjoy the show?”


    His husky voice carried through the cool night air, surprisingly pleasant, even though he was caught on


    spot, there wasn’t a trace of shame in his face.


    Quintessa was caught off guard. This guy was interesting – aware of her presence and utterly


    shameless.