Quintessa gazed at the array of fruits before her and quipped, "Looks like you''re aiming to stir up a


    storm."


    Feeding someone is an intimate gesture, which is reserved only for those closest to you. Yet,


    Quintessa didn''t feel that close to Snow. They were barely friends, let alone besties. Snow held his


    pose, with his gaze locked onto Quintessa''s eyes. "No, why don''t you consider that maybe I want to


    turn this act into something real?"


    Quintessa smirked, "The inte''s buzzing with rumors that I''m a gold digger, a mistress, that I had a


    teenage pregnancy. You sure you want to get real with me?" Snow shed Quintessa a grin, "The


    inte once had me pegged as gay, a gigolo, the darling of wealthy women. Makes us quite a pair,


    don''t you think?"


    His experiences served as a reminder to Quintessa that every celebrity had their days of being dragged


    through the mud.


    Suddenly, Quintessaughed, "Just from hearing that, it seems we might be a match. But,"


    Snow kept fixing his eyes on her, "But what? My arm''s getting sore here, and we''ve got an audience.


    Give me some face, will ya?" Instead of taking a bite, Quintessa grabbed the fork and took over, "But I


    see you as a brother. Don''t get any ideas about hitting on me." Snow roared withughter, "You got it


    all wrong. I''ve got plenty of bros. What I''mcking now is a girlfriend. Interested?"


    "Mr. Snow Jackson? What brings you here?" Violet''s voice suddenly cut through the tension, which


    eased Quintessa''s awkwardness.


    Letting out a silent sigh of relief, Quintessa looked up to see Violet jogging over, "Where''d you run off


    to, Violet?"


    "Just had to handle something. I''ll fill you inter." Violet smiled warmly at Snow, "Sir, we owe you big


    time for helping Quinn dodge the bullet with those rumors. Thank you so much." Snow felt a pang of


    regret. He had mustered the courage to ask, only to be interrupted.


    He stood up, all politeness, "No thanks needed. I have my own agenda."


    He nced meaningfully at Quintessa, adding, "I''ve been here a while and have other matters to


    attend to. I''ll take my leave now, but I''lle by again when I have time." "Hey, Great Snow Jackson,


    let''s have dinner sometime."


    "Sure, we''ll touch baseter. Goodbye."


    Once Snow was out of earshot, Violet prodded, "What did he say?"


    Quintessa put the fork back in the lunchbox, "He mentioned he''scking a girlfriend and wondered if I


    was interested. Think I should say yes?"


    Violet blurted out instantly, "Of course not. You''re now..."


    "Now what?"


    "Ahem. Never mind!"


    Violet couldn''t say it: I''ve sold you out. You''re Tyrone''s now, and that''s why you can''t be anyone else''s


    girlfriend.


    That night, a photo on Twitter caused an uproar. It showed Snow tenderly offering fruit to Quintessa, his


    gaze soft and focused.


    Têxt ? N?velDrama.Org.


    The photo nearly ''confirmed'' the scandal brewing between Quintessa and Snow.


    The caption read: "God Snow taking time from his busy schedule to visit the set, sweetly feeding her,


    making all the singles jealous."


    As Quintessa was busy filming, she barely paid any attention to the fuss.


    Tyrone saw the post the next morning during a meeting. Bored, he scrolled through his phone and his


    expression darkened at the sight of the photo. "Meeting''s on hold," he announced in a cold tone.


    James quickly asked, "Mr. York, where are you off to?"


    Tyrone strode out, "To meet my new employee."