Ethan Sullivan's gaze lingered on Sophia Sullivan.
The corners of his lips lifted slightly. "This outfit suits you today."
Sophia glanced down at her simple casual wear.
Compared to the modest floral dress from last time, she did feel much more comfortable now.
Her relaxed expression radiated an unconstrained ease.
"Thank you," Sophia replied politely.
Ethan abruptly changed the subject. "Your previous fashion sense was... questionable."
He paused before adding, "Dated."
Sophia was momentarily speechless.
The rumors about Ethan's sharp tongue were clearly well-founded.
The fact that he'd survived this long was purely due to his formidable capabilities.
While others might fear Ethan, Sophia felt no such pressure.
She had never been one to conform to expectations.
Despite his cutting remarks, interacting with him felt strangely effortless.
There was no need for the constant pretense she'd maintained in the Winston household.
As she studied his focused profile, memories of their first meeting two years ago surfaced.
Back then, the Winston family had been on the brink of bankruptcy.
Desperate to save the family business, she'd mustered the courage to request an audience with Ethan.
She'd waited in the reception room all afternoon.
After four or five refills of coffee, Ethan had finally entered, ushered in by his assistant.
"What perfume are you wearing?"
Sophia had been about to open a thick stack of documents when his abrupt question interrupted her.
It was a custom fragrance she'd blended herself.
Sophia remained composed. "Just something I picked up. Can't recall the name. Are you interested, Mr. Sullivan?"
"I can resolve Winston Group's distribution channel issues."
Ethan flipped through the files without looking up. "I'll handle those complications for you."
He closed the folder and finally met her eyes. "Leave the rest of that perfume behind."
In all her encounters with people from all walks of life, this was the strangest request she'd ever received.
She retrieved the half-empty bottle from her bag and placed it gently on his desk.
True to his word, Ethan had helped the Winston family weather the crisis.
An enormous favor, exchanged for a bottle of perfume.
The man certainly had unconventional methods.
Two years had passed since then.
As a perfumer, having her work appreciated always brought joy.
Sophia had always retained a certain fondness for Ethan.
Since you value my creations, it's only fair I return the courtesy.
She crouched down naturally, stroking the orange tabby's soft fur.
The cat stretched lazily, rolling onto its back in a display of affection.
When Sophia looked up at the lump of clay in Ethan's hands, her compliment died on her lips.
It vaguely resembled a narrow-necked vase.
If one ignored the lopsided body and uneven rim.
Perhaps it could pass as abstract art.
After a brief internal struggle, Sophia couldn't bring herself to offer false praise.
"Don't say it. I know."
Ethan's voice carried rare frustration.
Sophia suppressed a laugh. At least he was self-aware.
The awkward moment was interrupted as Benjamin York entered the courtyard carrying a live fish.
"Finally decided to show up, you ungrateful girl! Caught this fresh—I'll cook you a proper meal at noon."
"Perfect timing. I've been craving Potter's Town fish." Sophia's eyes curved with amusement. "I'll definitely have seconds."
Benjamin's expression darkened when he noticed Ethan. "Just the two of us. He's not invited!"
His dismay intensified at the sight of the misshapen clay.
"Let this brat starve! How many days has he been freeloading here?"
Ethan remained impassive. "I paid ten times the rate. My weekly booking hasn't expired."
His tone was cool as he continued wrestling with the vase.
"Is this about money? You're desecrating precious materials!"
Benjamin clutched his chest, wheezing with indignation.
A lifelong ceramics enthusiast, he treated these raw materials like his own children.
No parent could bear seeing their offspring turn out so deformed.
"I told you you've got no talent! Wasted supplies, ruined three wheels, worn out countless carving tools."
Benjamin grew increasingly agitated. "Even the kiln master is ready to quit. Just give up already."
"I enjoy it." Ethan's tone brooked no argument. "When is your mentor arriving?"
"Think I'm not good enough?" Benjamin's mustache quivered with outrage as he pulled Sophia forward. "Here! My mentor's right here!"