As a last-minute addition, Summer Thorne's position between the three men was rather conspicuous.
They drank and talked about economic trends and the stock market, while she sat to the side, sipping fruit juice.
But since she was here, she might as well make the best of it. Summer Thorne appeared perfectly composed.
If Hugh Underwood was using her as a stepping stone, then she could just as easily use the situation to achieve her own goals.
At the dinner table, Hugh Underwood acted as the master of ceremonies, keeping the atmosphere lively. Even though the other two magnates weren't talkative, they still chatted with him quite a bit.
Summer Thorne sat there for what felt like an eternity, sipping her juice. She finally found a moment when Hugh Underwood paused for breath to bring up the matter of restarting the project.
But Hugh Underwood just slapped his thigh and laughed. "That's a minor issue! It's rare for us all to get together. Let's talk about these things later..."
"Of course you're not in a hurry, Mr. Underwood," Summer Thorne said. "But you're a very busy man. It's rare for me to get a chance to see you, so I have to seize the opportunity. I'm sure Mr. Fawley and Mr. York won't mind, will they?"
She used Hugh Underwood's own logic against him, successfully putting Timothy York and Gale Fawley on the spot once again.
If the two of them refused to play along, there was nothing she could do.
But only she knew that her sense of anticipation far outweighed the anxiety of her gamble.
Even though she was blatantly using them, she had a feeling... that it would be fine.
Summer Thorne looked at Timothy York once more.
Although Summer Thorne had mentioned Gale Fawley, her relationship with Timothy York was ostensibly closer, so naturally, Gale Fawley wouldn't be the first to speak.
From across the table, Timothy York's gaze rested quietly on Summer Thorne's face. He slowly uttered two words: "I don't mind."
This was the answer Summer Thorne had been hoping for, yet the moment she met his dark, profound gaze, her heart still skipped a beat uncontrollably.
That simple phrase was almost an indulgence.
He didn't mind, even knowing he was being used.
'Why would he go this far?'
Summer Thorne didn't dwell on it. She quickly composed herself and looked at Hugh Underwood. "To show our sincerity, I've prepared a supplementary contract. We are willing to concede 30% of the profits to the Underwood Group. Please, Mr. Underwood, take a look at the contract first."
As she spoke, she had Evan Cheney, who was waiting outside, bring the contract in.
"My, my, you really came prepared!" Hugh Underwood said, chuckling as he took the contract in front of everyone.
The moment he opened it, however, his brow furrowed. "Oh, dear. Look at me, I forgot my glasses. And I've had a bit too much to drink. This contract is a real strain on the eyes, and I won't be able to finish it in one go... How about this: I'll take it back with me. If there are no issues, you can come to my company tomorrow, and we'll sign and stamp it."
With things having come to this, Summer Thorne had no choice. "Then I'll be waiting for your good news, Mr. Underwood."
Hugh Underwood let out a loud laugh, then suddenly seemed to remember something. "Summer Thorne, haven't you toasted Mr. York yet? Even if you can't drink, you should still show some courtesy!"
'It's unavoidable, after all.'
Summer Thorne did as she was told, picking up the glass of juice in front of her. She rose and walked to Timothy York's side. "Mr. York, I'd like to propose a toast..."
Before Timothy York could reply, Hugh Underwood started clamoring, "Why are you still calling him 'Mr. York'? That's so distant! Mr. York may be young, but you should be calling him 'Third Uncle'!"
Reminded once again that she was supposed to call him "Third Uncle," Summer Thorne braced herself. This time, however, the private room didn't fall silent. Instead, Gale Fawley let out a soft chuckle.
"Mr. Underwood, you really are persistent!" Gale Fawley said with a smile.
Hugh Underwood laughed as well. "It's just proper etiquette, isn't it? Summer Thorne is young. As an elder, it's my duty to teach her."
Amid the laughter, Timothy York picked up his glass of red wine, his expression serene as he clinked it against the juice glass in Summer Thorne's hand. He then tilted his head back and took a drink.
Through the crystal-clear wall of the glass, the smooth line of the man's jaw was visible, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. It was a sharp, sexy sight.
For a moment, Summer Thorne found herself completely captivated.
It wasn't until he lowered his glass and looked up at her that Summer Thorne averted her gaze, took a sip of her juice, and turned to toast Gale Fawley as well.
In the end, no one heard Summer Thorne utter the words "Third Uncle."
...
The meal didn't last very long.
Before it ended, Gale Fawley and Timothy York exchanged a few quiet words. Guessing they had another engagement to get to, Summer Thorne seized the moment to talk to Hugh Underwood about the project again.
Hugh Underwood was already quite drunk by then. He puffed out his chest, guaranteeing Summer Thorne that everything would be fine and telling her to come to his company tomorrow.
When the dinner party concluded, Summer Thorne saw Hugh Underwood to his car at the entrance. Listening to his slurred assurances, she couldn't help but feel uneasy.
A set of footsteps approached from behind. Summer Thorne turned to see Timothy York being escorted out by the club's staff.
He was like the moon surrounded by stars.
And the moon was exceptionally brilliant.
They say a beautiful woman is bewitching, but a man this handsome was no less captivating.
Summer Thorne turned her head back just as Hugh Underwood's car was driving away.
Timothy York walked up beside her, his gaze also following the departing car.
Summer Thorne composed herself. Just as she was about to thank him again, she suddenly heard the man's low, soft voice—
"Don't waste your efforts on pointless people."
Summer Thorne froze, falling silent.
She could almost hear the frantic beating in her chest, a turbulent, uneven rhythm.
Summer Thorne gently rubbed the fingers hidden beneath her sleeve, slowly bringing feeling back into their cold tips. Only then did she turn to him and speak with a smile, "Then who is a 'pointful' person? You?"
Her smile was bright and mischievous as she posed a startling question in the most playful tone she could manage: "What if I were to waste my efforts on you?"
Once the words were out, there was no taking them back.
Although Timothy York had only recently returned to Valois, anyone who had met him in this short time had nothing but high praise for him—
A perfect gentleman, refined and steady.
Yet here she was, saying something to this gentleman that was practically a proposition.
'I think I've crossed a line,' she thought.
Summer Thorne averted her gaze, catching only the clean, tranquil scent of cedarwood.
But in the next moment, she heard Timothy York say—
"Then by all means, try."
For a moment, Summer Thorne was sure she had misheard him.
She turned her gaze to him again.
Timothy York's eyes were dark and deep. Though the depths of his gaze were calm, he met her look without flinching when she turned to him.
The surprise and inquiry in her eyes were unconcealed.
Timothy York looked away, a hint of a smile flashing across his lips. His voice was low and magnetic. "It was just a joke. Don't mind me."
Summer Thorne gently bit her lip.
As they were speaking, a black Rolls-Royce Phantom glided to a stop before them. The driver got out, smiled and nodded at Summer Thorne, then walked to the passenger door to wait for Timothy York to get in.
Summer Thorne recognized him as the man who had brought her the umbrella and coat at Prospect Peak.
Perhaps it had all started from the moment he lit that cigarette for her in the private room at Prospect Peak. Since then, there had been an indescribable, ambiguous tension between her and Timothy York.
After all, she was the one who had tried to curry favor from the very beginning.
Even if it was just over a cigarette.
But this fragile, barely-there ambiguity should have vanished into thin air the night she learned of his identity.
She was a married woman, and he was a distant relative of her husband.
They both knew what had passed between them. It would have been best to pretend nothing had happened and leave it at that.
To avoid suspicion.
But... if they were supposed to be avoiding suspicion, then who was it that had unzipped her dress in the hotel that night?
Just as Timothy York was about to get into the car, Summer Thorne called out to him, "Mr. York!"