After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 4: Delivered to the Door

When Moira Sloan finished speaking, the jaw of the young girl standing before her dropped, her mouth forming a perfect ’O’. Clearly, she’d never heard such scandalous words in public.

Connor Quinn met her gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. "No."

Moira Sloan asked, "Then what photo was it?"

Connor Quinn said in a deep voice, "When we were being set up, Miss Alden sent me a candid photo of you."

"Oh," Moira Sloan said.

’So that’s how it was.’

Now that the misunderstanding was cleared up, Moira Sloan saw no reason to linger. She put away her phone, tossed her empty popsicle wrapper into a nearby trash can, and headed back to her small shop on her high heels.

She had just opened the shop.

It was her way of forcing herself out of a growing slump, to get up and keep a nine-to-five schedule.

The shop specialized in various pieces of lacquerware, from furniture to decor.

Every single piece was absurdly expensive.

In a small county town where the average monthly salary was just three thousand, virtually no one could afford to buy her wares.

As for why she opened such a shop—well, besides this craft, there was nothing else she knew how to do.

Moira Sloan was sipping water and playing with her phone when the shop door was pushed open from the outside.

The young girl who had just confronted her outside walked in, looking timid.

Moira Sloan glanced up, a flirtatious smile playing on her lips. "Can I help you?"

"I’m here to buy something."

"Feel free to look around," Moira Sloan said.

’When you’re in business, the customer is always right.’

’It doesn’t matter if you’ve had a run-in with said ’god’ before. As long as they’re paying, they call the shots.’

’Besides, what happened between her and the girl could hardly be called a conflict.’

"How much is this?"

The young girl asked Moira Sloan, holding up a palm-sized jewelry box.

Moira Sloan chuckled, her red lips parting. "One thousand two hundred and eighty."

Hearing Moira Sloan’s words, the girl’s hand couldn’t help but tremble. "How... how much?"

Her monthly salary was only thirty-eight hundred.

’Something this small costs twelve hundred and eighty?’

"You’re my first customer since I opened," Moira Sloan said. "So I can give you a discount."

The young girl sucked in a sharp breath, thinking it would be like that time she went shopping at Golden Dominion Plaza—an item marked at fifty-six hundred ended up being two hundred and thirty after the discount.

Moira Sloan’s eyes curved into smiling crescents. "How about one thousand two hundred and seventy-nine?"

The young girl’s face fell.

’A one-dollar discount? What kind of sale is that?’

In truth, Moira Sloan had seen it the moment the girl walked through the door. She wasn’t here to buy anything; she was here to scope her out.

A young girl in the throes of her first crush, always thinking that by getting the measure of her supposed rival, she can know her enemy and be ever-victorious.

’A rather foolish thought, really.’

The young girl stood there awkwardly, not knowing whether to keep holding the jewelry box or put it down.

She was just trying to save face.

Moira Sloan put down her glass of water. After a moment of thought, she tilted her head and looked at the girl. "Do you want to come work for me?"

The girl didn’t immediately register what she’d said. "Wh-what?"

A smile bloomed on Moira Sloan’s face. "This way, you can keep an eye on me and Connor Quinn."

The young girl was speechless.

Moira Sloan had the girl’s mentality pegged perfectly. She wasn’t in a rush. "Think about it."

After saying her piece, Moira Sloan turned to put down her water glass.

She had just set the glass down when the girl behind her blurted out, "What’s the pay?"

"A three-month probationary period," Moira Sloan said. "Five hundred a month."

"Five hundred?" the girl exclaimed. "You sell one little box for twelve hundred and eighty, but you’re only paying an employee five hundred a month?"

The girl’s anger flared. Her eyes went wide as she glared at Moira Sloan.

’She must be messing with me.’

Just as the young girl was about to blow up at Moira Sloan and storm out, the shop door was pushed open again. Connor Quinn’s tall, imposing figure appeared in the doorway, one hand holding the door open.

"Moira Sloan, come out. I need to talk to you."

Moira Sloan’s gaze drifted between the two of them. Unwilling to let this ’perfect employee’ who’d just fallen into her lap get away, her eyes crinkled with a smile, her expression utterly bewitching. "Alright."