One year, one love by Aurora Miller

hapter 62

“So, what's this? Are you here to apply for a job?” Lewis asked, giving Doris a curious look. “Our company

cafeteria doesn’t exactly need a pastry chef.”

“It's not for me,” Doris replied quickly, “I was wondering if there are any openings for security positions or

maybe factory work? You know, something that doesn’t require a high level of education.”

“Not for you? Then who's looking for a job? I'll need to know if I'm going to help,” Lewis pressed, intrigued.

“Wait. Does that mean you can help?” Doris’ eyes lit up, a glimmer of hope sparking in them.

“I can ask someone in the HR department,” Lewis said cautiously. “But don’t get your hopes up too high. You

know the Hartman Group has high standards. It's tough to get in here.” He paused, his gaze sharpening. “So,

who's it for?”

“It's for my useless brother, Rupert.” Doris let out a resigned sigh. “He got fired from the Watson Group. My

dad’s been on my case to find him another job. That's why | figured I'd casually ask you.”

‘Rupert? Doris‘ brother? He used to work at the Watson Group?‘ Lewis thought to himself, piecing it together.

“He only got that job at the Watson Group because of you, didn’t he? And now he’s been fired also because of

you, I'd bet. Letguess.

Your dad blames you for Rupert losing his job and is forcing you to find him a better one, maybe even here at the

Hartman Group. Looks like he’s intentionally making your life difficult.” Lewis deduced effortlessly, his sharp

intuition on full display.

Doris stared at him in shock. “How do you know all that? Did you bugor something?”

“Do | look that bored?” Lewis retorted, his tone dry. “You've mentioned before that he graduated from a

community college. Even for a security job here, we require higher education levels and professional training. I'm

just being realistic.”

“I figured it was a long shot,” Doris admitted, shrugging. “It's fine. I'll tell him to look elsewhere.”

“Don’t give up just yet. Letask around first,” Lewis suggested.

spot? Could this affect your job? If there's any

“Won't that put you in a tough risk, don’t bother. He's not worth it. He's not important at all,” Doris said with

genuine concern.

“Are you worried about me?” Lewis raised an eyebrow.

“Of course | am,” Doris replied matter-of-factly. “You're in such a good position right now, clearly valued by your

superiors. You can’t afford to mess up. I’m counting on you to climb the ladder, get a big promotion, and earn

lots and lots of money...”

Suddenly, another voice interrupted, smooth and gentle. “Mr. Hartman, care for a glass of this exquisite wine?”

Doris froze, her heart skipping a beat. “Mr. Hartman?”

“I'm traveling on business with my CEO. | should go check on things. You get srest,” Lewis said before

cutting the call.

Doris frowned slightly, a sense of unease creeping into her mind.

Lewis ended the call and turned to face the unwelcguest. His sharp, cold gaze landed on Yvonne Reynolds,

his eyes like piercing blades.

Yvonne was wearing a white bathrobe provided by the hotel, her damp hair falling loosely over her shoulders.

She held a bottle of fine wine in one hand and two crystal wine glasses in the other.

“Leave,” Lewis ordered sternly, his voice cutting like ice.

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Mon, 3 Mar

Chapter 62

Yvonne flinched, feeling an almost tangible wave of icy pressure radiating from him. For a moment, she wanted

to retreat.

But as her eyes lingered on his handsface, she mustered up her courage once more.

“Mr. Hartman, don’t be so harsh. Relax and have a drink,” she cooed, her voice sugary as she poured the wine

into the glasses.

Picking up one of the glasses, Yvonne approached Lewis. He immediately stepped back, keeping a firm distance

between

them.

“This is my final warning. Take your wine and leave. Now,” Lewis said, his tone even colder than before.

Yvonne was the second daughter of the Reynolds Group’s founder and the representative for this collaboration.

Lewis had been polite to her up until now, but his patience was clearly wearing thin.

Still, she wasn’t ready to give up. With a sly smile, she raised her glass gracefully and offered it to him. Lewis

didn’t even glance at it.

Seeing his indifference, Yvonne tipped her head back and downed the wine herself in one smooth motion. “Mr.

Hartman, I've admired you for a long time. Now that we've met, I'm even more certain that you're the man |

want.”

As Yvonne spoke, she gently untied the sash of her bathrobe. The white fabric slipped silently to the floor,

revealing a thin crimson nightgown beneath.

Its vibrant hue clung to her curves, accentuating her hourglass figure. She was like a blooming red rose, sensual,

striking, and utterly provocative. This was seduction, raw and unfiltered.

Lewis, unfazed, picked up his phone and pointed it at Yvonne.

Mistaking his intent, Yvonne assumed he had succumbed to her allure and wanted to capture her beauty. She

began to pose coquettishly, her face glowing with satisfaction.

The next moment, her fantasy shattered.

Lewis lifted the phone slightly and delivered a chilling warning. “Ms. Reynolds, put your clothes back on. If you're

not out of here in three seconds, I'll upload this photo for the world to admire.”

Yvonne's face turned pale as her fingers clenched into fists. “Mr. Hartman, | refuse to believe you're this low.”

“You're welcto test me. I've got nothing to lose.” Lewis’ lips curved into a menacing smirk. “One...”

Pahic finally struck Yvonne. She didn’t dare gamble. Snatching up her bathrobe, she hastily wrapped it around

herself while stumbling toward the door.

Lewis followed her to the doorway, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. He stopped as she fumbled to

regain her composure in the hall.

“Ms. Reynolds,” he said icily, his expression devoid of any warmth, “I'm married. Show srespect.”

“That's impossible.” Yvonne's eyes widened in shock. “Everyone knows you're single.”

“My marriage is a private matter,” Lewis replied, his tone firm.

“Even if you're married, so what? | still like you. I'll wait. I'll wait until you're divorced,” Yvonne declared boldly.

“I won't be getting a divorce.” Lewis’ voice was cold, his gaze filled with unmistakable disgust. “Get out.”

Without another word, Lewis slammed the door shut, leaving Yvonne standing outside, humiliated.

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Chapter 62

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He turned swiftly, striding into the living room to make a call. “Daniel,” he said as soon as the line connected,

“have Reynolds Group send someone else to handle the negotiations, or the deal is off. Also, booka flight

back to Hampstone. Now.”

Daniel, caught off guard, hesitated. “Mr. Hartman, are you sure? The dinner meeting tonight went smoothly, and

we're scheduled to sign the contract tomorrow...”

‘Mr. Hartman didn’t even drink much tonight. Why the sudden change?‘ Daniel thought. As Lewis’ assistant, it

was his responsibility to point out the impracticality of a last-minute decision like this.

was inappropriate, and as his special assistant, he had to remind him.

“Cut the crap!” Lewis’ sharp tone left no room for argument. “Are you going to do as | say, or should | find

someone who can?”

“Yes, sir. I'll book the flight immediately,” Daniel replied, startled into compliance.”

At 11:15 p.m., Lewis boarded a flight back to Hampstone. By the the reached Greenlake Hill, it was well past

2am.

The first to greet him was Biscuit, who wagged his tail enthusiastically. Lewis patted the dog’s head before

heading into the living room, where he found Doris asleep on the couch once again.

His brows furrowed as he approached her in quick strides. The soft light of the table lamp bathed her face in a

warm glow. Her long lashes cast delicate shadows beneath her eyes, resembling fluttering butterfly wings.

Barefaced and serene, she exuded natural beauty far more refreshing than the garish makeup of others.

Lewis bent down and gently scooped her into his arms. The movement stirred Doris slightly, but she only opened

her eyes halfway, letting them flutter closed again as she rested her head against his chest.

He carried her to her bedroom, where the pink sheets and girlish decor added a soft, whimsical charm.

Doris’ eyes fluttered open once more. In the dim light, her drowsy gaze settled on Lewis. For a moment, she

wondered if she was dreaming.

“Mr. Hartman actually showed up in my dream,” she murmured, a goofy smile spreading across her face. “Does

this mean | can mess with you however | want?”

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at his lips. The interplay of light and shadow sharpened the angles

of his striking features. “How exactly do you plan on messing with me?”

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