Chapter 126


    "Mr. Collins, huh?" Deborah turned her gaze toward Ernest, "Is that cool with you, Mr. Collins?"Belongs to (N)?vel/Drama.Org.


    I was bracing for Ernest to give her a piece of his mind, but instead, he just said, "If she''s up for it, sure."


    T was speechless.


    I felt a pinch on my arm; Deborah was giving me a series of frantic winks, clearly smelling some drama brewing.


    Was Ernest really looking to stir the pot?


    His casualment had thrown me off.


    Determined not to give Deborah the spectacle she was craving, I replied with a slight smile, "I''m not short on cash, so no thanks."


    "Felicia..."


    Ernest just looked over, silent.


    During breakfast, my phone rang. It was myndy next door. Assuming she had sorted things out, I answered, "Hey..."


    "Felicia, I''m so sorry to bother you this early," she began, all politeness.


    "It''s no trouble, go ahead," I said, sipping on my soy milk.


    "That rental issue we discussed, I talked to the guy, but he won''t budge. Not evenpensation would do, so..." Her words hinted at something familiar, echoing a conversation I seemed to have heard before.


    "Felicia, don''t you worry about a thing. I''ve checked this guy out. He''s got no criminal record or bad habits, and he''s quite the looker. Plus, he used to be a..." She was cut off as Ernest called out to me.


    "Ms. Hudson, can I have that fried egg?" Ernest pointed at the sunny-side-up egg on my te.


    I froze, so much that I missed whatever else myndy was saying, and ended up just agreeing with her before hanging up to face Ernest.


    "If you''d rather not, it''s fine," he said, turning his attention back to peeling a hard-boiled egg.


    "Mr. Collins, you can have my fried egg," Deborah, ever the eager beaver, chimed in, ready to hand over her own te.


    "No, I''ve lost my appetite," Ernest coldly declined.


    I remained silent, watching him gobble down the hard-boiled egg, feeling a lump in my throat from just the sight.


    And I had this nagging feeling that it wasn''t really the fried egg he wanted.


    So why did he ask for mine?


    Before I could puzzle it out, Ernest was done with his meal, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder, "Enjoy your breakfast, I''ve got to go."


    Deborah watched him leave, then turned to me, "Felicia, he didn''t want just any fried egg. He wanted yours."


    "What, is mineced with the elixir of life?" I joked, picking up my fork, and taking a bite.


    "Felicia, Mr. Collins is into you," Deborah''s revtion had me choking.


    After coughing and taking a sip of my soy milk, I asked, "All because he wanted my fried egg?"


    "It''s not just that. It''s the way he acts around you, the looks he gives you, and even..." Deborah trailed off, clicking her tongue, "I can''t quite put my finger on it, but there''s definitely a spark."


    I wasn''t a naive teenager to miss the signs.


    From the moment Ernest bluntly mentioned marriage, I sensed his interest.


    But his subsequent actions made


    me doubt my intuition, yet the


    events fromst night to this


    el


    morning seemed to suggest he had


    some intentions toward me. Content


    Belongs to


    "So what if he does? I''ve already said I''m not interested," I retorted, only to notice a figure looming over the table. Looking up, Ernest had returned, his gaze fixed directly on me.


    The awkwardness made my fingers curl up, and Deborah, simrly taken aback, attempted to shift the topic, "How did Mr. Collinse back? We were just discussing Felicia''s ex-fiancé, she was saying...


    "I heard," Ernest cut her off, his eyes still on me.