Chapter 79 Seeking Advice

Marlowe busted out laughing, her cackles echoing through the office.

Isabella waved her hands, trying to shush her. "Hey, can you tone it down a bit?"

"Tone it down for what? In this joint, you'll be numero uno, and I'll be your right-hand gal. Everyone's gonna bow down to us."

Isabella stared at the ceiling, thinking, "What kind of mess am I in?"

"Marlowe, I can't do this. I'm just an artist. I can sketch anything you want, but running a company? No way."

Marlowe gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Chill, girl. You got me, remember? We got this."

Isabella waited until George wrapped up his meeting with the finance team before knocking on his door.

"What's up?" He looked beat, rubbing his temples.

Isabella nodded. "We need to talk."

"About what?" he asked.

"You dumped this company on me, but what about you?" Isabella asked.

"Me?" George grabbed his empty coffee cup and handed it to her. "Can you fill this up?"

Isabella filled the cup and handed it back. "Are you sticking around?"

"Nope," George said flatly.

"No? Marlowe said you dropped a ton of cash on this place. You can't just throw money around like that."

"Handing this company to you means you gotta show me the money. If there's a loss, explain it. If there's profit, hit the performance marks." George said, dead serious.

Isabella felt a headache coming on. "I don't get any of this. Aren't you just playing with your own cash?"

"You can always ask me. I'm a pretty patient teacher," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"So, heading back to Stellar City?"

George took a sip of his coffee. "Nope."

"Didn't you finish the buyout? Why not go back?"

"The Spencer Group's got a ton of stuff in Stellar City that needs me. Can't leave just yet." George put down his coffee and gave her a once-over. "We don't eat or sleep together, so it shouldn't bug you, right?"

Isabella's fingers clenched into a fist. "Nope."

Isabella stormed out of the office, taking a deep breath. 'George's here just to mess with me,' she thought.

When Isabella stepped out of the building at the end of the day, Caleb approached her. "Mrs. Spencer, Mr. Spencer's waiting for you."

Isabella rolled her eyes. "Not going."

"It's on the way. You'll save on transport," Caleb coaxed.

"Do I look like I need to save on transport?" Isabella slung her bag over her shoulder and headed to the bus stop.

Of course, it started to rain.

She gritted her teeth, turned back, and hopped in the car. "I'm not letting you drive me; it's just the weather sucks."

George chuckled. "Drive."

On the way home, George kept his eyes shut, not saying a word.

Isabella got bored and started chatting with Caleb. "Caleb, you married?"

Caleb looked a bit embarrassed. "Don't even have a girlfriend."

"How old are you?" she asked.

"28," Caleb answered.

"You're two years older than George. He's almost divorced, and you don't even have a girlfriend. That's rough. Want me to set you up?"

Isabella kept chatting away, totally ignoring George's dark expression.

"I ain't planning on getting a girlfriend right now," Caleb said, sweating bullets.

Isabella squinted her almond-shaped eyes. "You don't like dudes, do you? You got a thing for George, huh?"

"Please, don't joke around. I don't like guys. Just too busy for a girlfriend," Caleb said, wiping his forehead.

"Really?" Isabella didn't seem convinced.

"Yes." Caleb wiped his forehead again.

Isabella sat back, sulking, and vaguely heard someone laughing.

She turned around to see George almost turning red from holding back his laughter.

"What’s so funny?" she asked.

"I'm laughing at you for scaring Caleb," George said.

"I just asked if Caleb had a girlfriend, and he freaked out? Too easy, right, Caleb?" Isabella teased.

Caleb gave an awkward laugh, not daring to respond.

The car pulled up to the townhouse, and Isabella and George got out.

At their respective doors, George asked, "Wanna come over and hang for a bit?"

"Nope." Isabella punched in her password and opened the door.

George raised an eyebrow and smiled. Caleb walked over and asked, "Mr. Spencer, you staying here tonight?"

"Not just tonight. I'll stay until she comes back to Stellar City with me," George said.

"Got it."

After Caleb left, George sat, stood, and lay down in his house for a while.

He got bored.

So, he walked out and knocked on Isabella's door.

Isabella was cooking, just starting to make porridge when she heard the doorbell.

Through the peephole, she saw George's head.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I can't cook. I'm here to mooch a meal," he said honestly.

Isabella crossed her arms, looking at him from a distance. "I don't have extra food."

"I can pay." He pulled out a black card. "Here."

"You got money but can't order takeout?" She didn't want to deal with him, cursing as she walked away.

Seeing that Isabella ignored him, George sighed, entered the password, and walked straight in.

This was the second time he had brazenly barged into Isabella's home.

Isabella came out of the kitchen, almost scared to death when she saw him. "How did you get in?"

"Your door wasn't closed properly," he said.

"My door wasn't closed properly?" she doubted.

George nodded seriously. "But I closed it for you."

"George, you’re such a good liar." Isabella ignored him and went back to check on the porridge.

George followed her into the kitchen. "What's for dinner?"

"Human flesh."

"That's illegal," he laughed.

Isabella rolled her eyes. "My food won't suit your taste."

"Of course it will. We're family, you know. We eat the same stuff at home." He ruffled her hair. "You're such a mischievous spirit."

Isabella glared at him and shouted, "Don't touch me."

"I won't eat for free. You can set any condition you want," he said generously.

Isabella snorted. "Then leave Riverside City."

"Not happening. Try another one. Like, I can repay you with my body," George said mischievously.

Isabella almost spat water in his face. "George, what are you thinking?"

"I'm serious."

"Get out."

Isabella brought the cooked porridge to the dining table and started stir-frying vegetables. Soon, a plate of greens was ready.

A pot of porridge and a plate of greens—that was Isabella's dinner.

George frowned. "Is this all you're eating?"