"Here, try this." After Sherman had just finished a handful of raspberries, Anthea handed him some small fruits.

"What's this?" Sherman asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Gooseberries," Anthea replied, a hint of surprise in her voice. "Don't tell me you've never had gooseberries before?"

Sherman shook his head slightly and took a cautious bite of one.

Sour.

Painfully sour.

Yet, Sherman managed to keep his expression neutral.

"How do you like them?" Anthea inquired further.

"Pretty good," he lied.

Anthea dumped the rest of the gooseberries into Sherman's hands. "These are all yours. I can't handle too much sour."

Sherman thought to himself, Anthea is really sweet to me.

"Watch out!" Suddenly, Anthea grabbed Sherman's wrist.

Even through his sleeve, he could feel the warmth of her hand. It was electrifying.

Sherman paused mid-step, puzzled.

Their height difference was noticeable.

He was nearly six feet three, and she was around five feet seven.

From Sherman's angle, he had a perfect view of her delicate facial features and gracefully curved collarbones. Today, she wore a white blouse, slightly bent over, which allowed him a glimpse of something soft and hidden beneath the fabric...

Realizing what he was seeing, Sherman's face flushed with heat, and he quickly averted his gaze.

Bless me.

Look away!

Just then, Anthea's voice brought him back to reality, "There's a puddle ahead. Don't you watch where you're going?"

Sherman then noticed his foot was almost in the water.

Thank goodness Anthea stopped him.

"I wasn't paying attention, thank you for the heads-up." In a moment, Sherman's demeanor returned to normal as he twirled the key fob in his hand and continued walking. Outwardly calm.

But his heart was anything but steady.

Soon, they reached the base of the hill.

"I drove here. I'll take you home," Sherman offered.

"Aren't we waiting for Mrs. Christensen and Adah?" Anthea asked.

"No need," Sherman replied as he opened the car door for her. "A driver will come for them."

"Alright then." Anthea nodded and got into the car.

About an hour later, the car stopped in front of the Yeager family apartment complex.

"Thank you for the ride," Anthea said as she got out.

"My pleasure," Sherman replied, following suit.

Anthea then suggested, "It's still early. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"

"Sure."

Anthea was taken aback. She had only been polite, not expecting him to agree.

"Follow me."

Sherman followed her lead.

Anthea half-expected Sherman to feel uncomfortable in her modest living space, given that the Christensen family's living room alone was larger than her entire apartment. Yet, his expression revealed nothing out of the ordinary.

Anthea brought over some tea, "Careful, it's hot."

"Thank you." Sherman stood up to take the cup, tasting the tea with a look of surprise.

Authentic Earl Grey.

The temperature was just right.

The initial sip was slightly bitter, followed by a smooth, sweet aftertaste.

Clearly, Anthea knew her tea.

After finishing the tea, Sherman made his move to leave.

Anthea walked him out.

Just as they stepped outside, they ran into Nanson returning from work.

"Annie!"

"Uncle," Anthea greeted, then introduced Sherman. "Sherman, this is my uncle. Uncle, this is my friend Sherman."

"Nice to meet you." Sherman nodded politely.

Nanson sized Sherman up - tall, handsome, with an undeniable air of distinction. Yet, to Nanson, a man as outwardly perfect as Sherman often spelled trouble for women. Especially for someone like Anthea.

He couldn't let her be deceived by a wolf in sheep's clothing, following in poor Carole's footsteps.

With this thought, Nanson's gaze at Sherman was akin to seeing a big, fat pig eyeing his niece's pristine garden.

After a brief and indifferent interaction with Sherman, Nanson grabbed Anthea's hand. "Annie, let's go inside." Anthea barely had the chance to say goodbye to Sherman before being whisked away by Nanson.

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