Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 113: Gazing Through the Window

Chapter 113: Gazing Through the Window

"What’s the matter? Are you troubled by something?" the man asked with concern, his clear eyes reflecting Emma Hart in a deep, calm, and gentle manner, soft and delicate.

Such tender words unexpectedly stirred some ripples in Emma Hart’s heart.

The sudden feeling of being cared for, directly reaching her soul, made Emma Hart feel an urge to confide.

However, the image of that detestable man, always scowling with an icy facade, emerged in her mind.

If only he could be as gentle as Oliver Westmore, even just a little, how wonderful that would be.

"It’s nothing." Ultimately, Emma Hart chose to guard her feelings, closing that window.

Some things are better left unsaid, not everyone would understand her.

Besides, even without feeling constrained around Oliver Westmore, their relationship hadn’t reached the level of unreserved familiarity.

Oliver Westmore chuckled lightly, taking a sip of his coffee. A flash of disappointment crossed his eyes but was quickly concealed. "Alright, we’ll talk whenever you’re ready."

He paused, then added, "If you ever need anything, feel free to tell me. I’ll do my best to help."

Emma Hart was momentarily taken aback. His willingness to help sparked some overthinking.

Oliver Westmore seemed to catch her puzzled look and explained, "You always seem like a little sister in need of care, my brotherly instinct just kicks in."

"What?" Emma Hart asked, not catching his words clearly.

Oliver Westmore smiled, replying, "If mothers have maternal instincts, shouldn’t brothers have ’brotherly’ instincts?"

"Brotherly instincts?" Emma Hart’s face lit up with a smile. That must be a term Oliver Westmore coined himself.

Emma Hart’s phone buzzed, an email coming through.

She opened it hastily, only to find another rejection.

It seems Damien Sterling hadn’t lifted the corporate ban against her. As if she was so significant that all companies had to blacklist her, making the prospect of finding work seem distant once again.

Emma Hart sighed in resignation.

Oliver Westmore, catching the shift in her mood, glanced at the email’s content and asked in disbelief, "Looking... for a job?"

Her fleeing the church in a wedding dress, especially since it was supposed to be her wedding with Damien Sterling of the Sterling Group.

This woman, lifting her dress to run, and now searching for a job like a fresh graduate, intrigued Oliver Westmore more and more.

She was not simple, indeed not simple at all.

Emma Hart nodded in agreement, yet she found it inconvenient to divulge the reasons to Oliver Westmore.

"Don’t worry, there are plenty of opportunities. Just take your time," Oliver Westmore consoled her.

Just as Emma was about to speak, her phone rang, flashing the name "Damien Sterling" boldly across the screen.

Rolling her eyes dramatically, Emma answered the call, "Hello?"

"Where are you?" came the inquiry.

Surveying her surroundings, Emma spotted a sign outside, "I’m at the intersection of Elm Peace Road and Shade Lane, Timeless Café, right by the window, third row from the entrance," she replied deliberately, masking her indifference with precise details.

Was Damien Sterling checking in on her like a supervisor?

"No need for such detail, who are you with?" Damien’s deep voice emerged from the receiver.

Casting a glance at Oliver Westmore beside her, Emma lied, "With Mrs. Harris, who else could it be?"

"And..."

Emma quickly cut Damien off, "Mrs. Harris is in the restroom. Do you want me to fetch her so she can answer your call while she’s in there?"

"That won’t be necessary," he replied.

Relieved, Emma appreciated her growing skill in lying.

Just as she was about to ask Damien if there was anything else, the call ended abruptly with a beep.

Damien’s selfishness was evident in everything, including his habit of hanging up as soon as he finished speaking.

Annoyed, Emma tossed her phone onto the table, muttering, "What a person."

It was then she remembered Oliver Westmore across from her. Embarrassed, she offered a smile, having momentarily forgotten about him, "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay, really," Oliver reassured her, glancing at his watch before looking up, "I have a meeting soon, but I know a restaurant with a great atmosphere and food. Let’s plan another time."

Emma agreed politely, "Sure, next time," though she wondered when that would be, given her limited freedom.

As the man stood up, preparing to leave, his attention fell on the table.

He snapped his fingers to call over a waiter, "Could you please clean this up, leaving a clean environment for this lady?"

Emma was touched by Oliver Westmore’s thoughtfulness.

Oliver Westmore ducked his head as he passed through the carefully designed wind chime archway of the coffee shop.

His height caused the chimes to ring out with a merry "ding ding dong dong," as if bidding him farewell.

He turned back, offering Emma Hart an apologetic smile, to which she responded with a light laugh and a wave of her hand, calling out, "Take care!"

Watching from the window, Emma saw Oliver walking away in the opposite direction, puzzlingly towards a different parking area than most would expect.

She didn’t dwell on it, her attention momentarily diverted.

Before long, from the direction of the parking lot, a man approached, his presence unmistakable even in a crowd.

His tall stature and modern Western facial features are very striking, making him easily recognizable to Emma Hart from a distance.

As the man neared, seemingly unaware of her gaze, Emma turned her head away, slightly pulling the white lace curtain to obscure half of her body from view, and looked away from the window.

After what felt like ages, assuming Damien Sterling had passed by, Emma turned back, only to meet his gaze directly.

Surprised, she noted how he always seemed to look down on people, yet now, he saw her.

Separated by the glass, she stared at Damien’s face, so cold it seemed to bring winter’s chill.

She reached out, touching the glass, feeling its coldness, mirroring what she imagined the temperature of Damien’s expression to be.

Her hand on the glass transitioned from all fingers to just the index, reminiscent of a scene from an alien film.

Emma, half-expecting, hoped Damien would also extend his finger for a touching moment across the barrier.

With hopeful eyes, she tapped her index finger against the glass a few times, signaling to the man on the other side...

Damien Sterling furrowed his brows, observing Emma Hart’s actions with curiosity.