Love Began with the First Meeting
Chapter 167 A Phone Call To The Heart (Part Two)

True, Mr. Brian Long did help Aaron. But he did not want Aaron to become so successful as to run a monopoly on QY Island. It would be terrible when the economic lifeline of an entire island was dominated by one single person. No! Mr. Brian Long did not envision Aaron as the Rothschild family in M Country.

Already, Aaron had agreed to give Mr. Brian Long the plot in east QY, which was quite prime for the Island. Mr. Brian Long intended to open a casino in the area. But Aaron's dominance over the economy meant it might be impossible for anyone else to venture in QY. Since Brian had learned that Chancellor's men were behind the audacious abduction of Shirley and Molly, he did not blame Harrow too much. Instead, he would quietly plan retaliation- more violent and brutal than hit back. Thinking of that, Brian looked at Harrow, who was downcast. He stood up, poured wine in glasses and passed one to Harrow. "Has Spark arrived in A City yet?" he asked while raising the glass for a sip.

Bitterness flashed across Harrow's face immediately. He took a sip, twisted his lips and answered astringently, "He arrived yesterday."

"Are you serious about not going to meet him?" Brian asked, sounding somewhat nudging.

There was a look of indifference on Harrow's face. He took another sip of wine, shook his head, and then said, "I called him yesterday. But it was Manny who answered the phone. Spark still does not want to see me."

In fact, Brian had guessed that. Harrow always said that he did not want to see Spark, but had he once successfully refrained from meeting him? And for his lack of restraint, he was always left to lick his wounds. "You two are brothers. Everything will be fine between you two," Brian said with a sense of inspiring domination.

Hearing that, Harrow looked even more bitter. He said, "Since his mother jumped off the building in front of him... we have not been brothers. He has always distanced himself from the Su family, in the most vocal manner!" Harrow sighed deeply, raised his head and gulped his wine in one swig.

He had always been decisive in work. From the moment he began working for Mr. Brian Long, Harrow felt more at ease in business, like a duck taking to water. However, about Spark... he could do nothing!

Casting Harrow another look, Brian walked towards the French window. He held the glass of wine in one hand, the other hand leisurely pocketed. Standing in front of the window, he looked at the harsh reflection of morning sun falling on the opposite building across the street. Indifferently he said, "Go to the party together with me this evening."

Swiveling in his chair, Harrow turned to look at Brian, who was standing back to him, apparently lonely yet proud. "He will not be there...

Spark has never attended the curtain raiser or glee feast of any big concert. His reason for playing the violin is no more than to do what his mother wished. He's not the kind of artist who'll keenly follow other artistes or attend events just for the love of art. All the same, it's admirable what he has accomplished so far, at the young age of only 24. Whether it was his mother's influence that gave him a head-start or his own genius, you have to give him credit," Harrow said with a wry smile.

In response, Brian simply announced, "I have reserved a seat in the corner for you at the concert, a vantage seat where you can see him well without him seeing you!"

"Um!" Harrow answered, feeling warm at heart.

Apart from a sense of domination and great self-confidence, perhaps the benefits of working for Mr. Brian Long also included his deep concern for the people around him, though expressed in a cool manner.

*

The details around the big, lavish living room amazed Molly. She was speechless as she took in the extravagant display of high-priced items all around. She turned to Eric incredulously, eyes blinking. Then taking a jab at the profligacy, she asked frankly, "Have you moved the shopping mall here?"

Unable to give a satisfactory answer, Eric shrugged wantonly. He sat lazily on the couch, with his legs crossed quite high. With his hands, he shuffled the newspaper pages desultorily. He only took a slight glance at Molly, and then turned back to the newspapers. He said, "The party in the evening is an A-list affair bringing together the celebrities from around the world. I don't want to embarrass myself by tagging an ugly duckling by my side to such a fair!"

Molly glared at him and remarked angrily, "You can bring your sweet actress with you."

Eric was intrigued by her anger. "Why?" he inquired. "I only have to make you into a white swan, right?"

Molly was speechless.

Eric put the newspapers down, stood up and walked towards Molly. He held her shoulders, pulled her close and turned her around.

"Gosh, it is difficult to make you into a white swan. Maybe, we could try a black one. That would be easier!" he taunted, faking a reflective impression.

Now flashing red with annoyance, Molly gritted her teeth and pushed Eric away. The snicker in Eric's eyes made her all the more agitated.

An innocuous smile flashed across Eric's face. He raised his hand and tapped her on the forehead. "I was just kidding. Our Little Molly is an angel. You're much better than those artificial beauties," he assured in a low, deep voice. The way he tapped her on the forehead was a little too forceful; Molly had to soothe it by rubbing. She was irked by the rudeness of it and was about to say something when Eric interrupted her train of thought with the sudden change of tone and kind words. She took a look at Eric, and he was looking at her in an unusual way. She felt strange.

In the awkward silence, Eric realized his inappropriate demeanor but acted as if nothing had happened. Instead, he turned to a new topic, telling the stylists to start. Molly tried several dresses, all of which did not satisfy him. Finally, maybe making fun of their indecision, Molly chose a black knee-length strapless top dress.

Molly did not finish styling until late afternoon, and Eric stayed around until she was done. He sat on the couch and did his office work on the laptop. He only chipped in about Molly's styling once in a while. When Molly was finally dressed up and stood, waiting for his comment, Eric quietly studied her, from head to toe. He smiled with satisfaction, admiring everything about her, unable to replace fancier words. [