To the Love of My Life

Mr. Foster’s originally broad smile gradually stiffened, and then slowly disappeared. It was only when there was no trace of a smile left on his face that Steve Burton gently tugged at the corners of his lips, revealing a somewhat amused expression. He remained seated, looking at Mr. Foster, and spoke in a clear and cold voice, “Uncle Foster, please sit.”

Mr. Foster and Olivia Foster sat down opposite Steve. Perhaps because Steve’s demeanor had just been too cold, the atmosphere in the private room seemed somewhat stagnant.

Steve, on the other hand, seemed like nothing was wrong. He picked up the teapot on the table, poured three cups of tea, and pushed the first cup in front of Mr. Foster, “Uncle Foster, have some tea.”

Mr. Foster’s expression finally relaxed a little, “Thank you.”

Steve curved the corners of his lips, said nothing, and pushed the second cup of tea in front of Olivia. Then he slightly raised his eyelids, glanced at Olivia, and said two words, “Drink tea.”

Ever since the incident at the Red Park, Steve and Olivia had no further interaction. She had always thought that she had completely lost hope in Steve’s eyes.

But unexpectedly, today the secretary-general called her to accompany her father to meet Steve, saying that it had been a long time since they last met, and they should catch up.

Catching up… these three words seemed like spring rain sprinkling on her long-desiccated heart, making it begin to beat again.

Olivia reached out, took the cup of tea that Steve personally poured for her, suppressed the excitement in her heart, lowered her eyelashes, and whispered softly, obediently, “Thank you, Steve.”

Steve didn’t respond, and his face didn’t show any displeasure at Olivia’s calling him “Steve.” He just picked up the last cup of tea, took a sip at a leisurely pace, and then put down the cup. He pushed the cooperation proposal he brought with him in front of Mr. Foster, and said straightforwardly, “Here’s the contract. Please check if there are any issues, Mr. Foster.”

Both companies had already had people communicate during the drafting process, and the electronic version had been reviewed online before printing to follow the formal process. So there wouldn’t be any issues with the contract, but Mr. Foster still symbolically skimmed through it. He looked up at Steve and said, “Steve, I hope the cooperation between Foster’s Enterprises and Pristine’s Enterprises will continue to be as pleasant as always.”

Steve curved his lips, didn’t say anything, and leaned on the sofa behind him with a somewhat lazy manner, “Uncle Foster, you’ve been making more money these past few years.”

Mr. Foster smiled and said, “Isn’t it all thanks to Pristine’s Enterprises?”

“How could it be thanks to Pristine’s Enterprises? It’s Uncle Foster’s own ability.” Steve laughed and his eyes drifted to Olivia’s face, speaking in a relaxed tone, “The salary Pristine’s Enterprises gave Olivia isn’t enough for her to spend US$27,000 at once…”

As if on purpose, Steve emphasized the last two words, “USD.”

From Steve’s casual tone, it was impossible to discern what he was really thinking. It made people feel like he was just having a leisurely chat. Mr. Foster put down the pen he had originally prepared to sign with, smiled, and glanced at Olivia beside him. His tone sounded as if he was reproaching her without any blame, “Over the years, I’ve really spoiled Olivia, spending money recklessly. With this attitude, how is she going to get married?”