Chapter 22
She took a subtle step back, “Like I’d tell you the debt he owes me. Even if I told you, could you pay it off on his behalf?” Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.
Franklin found the situation intriguing and asked, “Well, that depends. What’s the nature of this debt? Let’s hear it.”
A smile crossed Quintessa’s lips, “For instance, imagine a guy who sleeps with someone, sneaks away at dawn without a word, not even bothering to pay for the hotel room, and on top of that, has the nerve to swipe their date’s cell phone. Can you manage that kind of debt?”
That was a lot to take in. Franklin suddenly felt overwhelmed by the audacity of it all. This was something he definitely could not handle.
Rubbing his nose, Franklin inquired, “Are you sure you’re talking about the Mr. York?”
Quintessa retorted, “Who else would be such a scumbag? You?”
Franklin took another look at Quintessa. She was fierce. But he was genuinely curious about her accusation. Was Tyrone that strapped for cash? To sleep with someone, not pay up, and then steal their phone?
Muttering to himself, Franklin said, “I’m definitely not that despicable.”
When he hooked up, at the very least he’d cover the room charge. And even if he didn’t, he’d
go
Dutch.
Spotting a familiar face, Franklin called out, “James, this lady’s looking for Mr. York.”
James, who had tried to slip away upon seeing Quintessa, was out of luck sold out by his own teammate.
Forced to stop in his tracks, James slowly turned to face Quintessa’s piercing eyes. Quintessa raised her hand, beckoning James with a curl of her delicate, nail–polished finger.
With a sigh, James approached her, “Ms. Quintessa Young, it’s been a while.”
James felt a bit uneasy around Quintessa. He didn’t dislike her, but she definitely put him on edge.
Quintessa smiled, “Not bad, James. Remembering me after three years. I must hold a special place in your heart. Take me to Tyrone.”
James looked discomforted, “Mr. York’s in a meeting. Maybe some other time.”
But Quintessa was having none of it, “His meeting is none of my concern. I’m here to see him now.”
James tried to maintain his composure, but found it impossible against Quintessa’s will, “Please don’t put me in a tough’spot.”
Quintessa nodded, “Fine, I won’t give you a hard time. Just relay a message for me. Tell him I’m not someone he can just sleep with and then steal from. What, did he go crazy over a few bucks?”
Upon hearing her words, James turned beet red with embarrassment. Being cussed out in the company where he worked was so humiliating, even if he wasn’t the target.
“Alright, I’ll give him a call.”
James took out his phone and made a call, “Mr. York.”
Before he could finish, Quintessa snatched the phone from his hand.
Holding the phone to her ear, she mocked, “Hey, Tyrone, slept well last night? Ran off so early in the morning – worried I’d ask you to split the bill? Haven’t seen you in three years. Still think I’ve got a great figure? After a night of fun, got a sore jaw? Want a kiss to make it better?”