His Lies Ch 8

Chapter 8 Waiting for You
He raised an eyebrow as he looked at Charlotte.
Charlotte nervously lowered her head.
The more Thomas remained silent, the more anxious Charlotte became. Finally, she picked up the bottle of water and took a large gulp, trying to ease the awkwardness.
Suddenly, Charlotte’s hand froze.
Thomas had already grasped her wrist and casually pulled the water bottle out of her hand.
“Mr. Tom…” Charlotte became even more passive.
Thomas was too close. His hands rested on the couch, completely enclosing Charlotte within his space.
Whenever Charlotte tried to retreat, Thomas moved closer.
So close that they could clearly hear each other’s heartbeat.
“What are you trying to avoid?” Thomas asked, his tone flat.
“Well…” Charlotte stammered, “You’re too close, I can’t speak.”
“Now you’re scared? Where did the courage you had at the nightclub go?” Thomas looked down at her.
Charlotte replied, “I was there for work.”
“There’s only one kind of work at a nightclub, and that’s being the bar girl,” Thomas said slowly.
Charlotte bit her lip. “I really was there for work.”
“For what kind of work?” Thomas asked.
“My clients like to discuss business in places like that. My boss was there too,” Charlotte muttered.
She was blaming Franklin for this situation.
“Which company are you working for?” Thomas asked again.
The nightclub manager had, of course, given Thomas the private room number.
But Thomas hadn’t yet looked into the situation inside the room before Charlotte got into trouble.
When Charlotte was asked this question, she answered resentfully, “The real estate division of Zimmerman Group.”
Thomas paused for a moment. “Zimmerman Group?”
“Yes.” Charlotte gritted her teeth.
Thomas suddenly felt as if Charlotte were about to tear him apart.
“Who from Zimmerman Group?” Thomas asked deeply.
Charlotte didn’t answer right away.
Thomas sat back down in his seat. “As far as I know, Zimmerman Group is highly strict in its management, and it’s a reputable company. It’s impossible for them to discuss business matters at a nightclub.”
“Why is it impossible?” Charlotte was defiant.
Thomas raised an eyebrow.
He hadn’t expected Charlotte to hold such resentment toward Zimmerman Group.
After all, she had been part of the Zimmerman family for three years.
“Well, from top to bottom, Zimmerman Group is corrupt to the core,” Charlotte said angrily. “If they’re trying to run a legitimate business, why hasn’t Thomas shown himself in public from the start? I bet if he’s not disabled, he must be grotesquely ugly, or he’s involved in too many shady dealings.”
The more she spoke, the angrier she became. She took a sip of water. “Richard is also part of the Zimmerman family. Only someone like him would choose such a place!”
Thomas stopped drinking.
So Richard offended her, and now I’m being blamed as well.
But Thomas sensed something was off. “Why do I feel like you have more of a problem with Thomas?”
Charlotte immediately fell silent.
Thomas raised an eyebrow, unwilling to let her off the hook.
Charlotte mumbled, “The sugar daddy’s hard to please. I just feel like complaining a little.”
Thomas flashed her a half-smile.
Charlotte squirmed under his gaze.
It was then that she realized she had been talking to Thomas for so long, still wrapped in a towel.
She hastily stood up.
But the ankle she had twisted during the earlier sprint flared with pain, causing Charlotte to cry out.
Thomas stood up abruptly as well.
Before Charlotte could react, he was at her side with a first aid kit in hand.
He carefully tended to her injured ankle, the cool sensation offering Charlotte some relief.
“Still want to go to the nightclub again?” Thomas asked.
Charlotte huffed but didn’t respond.
It was unclear whether it was from the pain or the embarrassment.
She looked down at Thomas, who was diligently applying the medication, and muttered, “Thank you.”
Thomas nodded. “Do you want to stay here?”
“No, I’m going back home,” Charlotte answered firmly.
It was already awkward enough having ended up in bed with Thomas.
Staying here would only make things worse.
But her hasty attempt to distance herself made Thomas’s expression seem strangely inscrutable.
After a pause, Thomas didn’t press the matter further.
Soon, he stood up. “Go change. I’ll take you back.”
“Okay,” Charlotte replied.
…
Fifteen minutes later, the two of them left the suite.
Charlotte walked behind Thomas, purposefully maintaining some distance.
Of course, Thomas noticed.
“I’ll go get the car, wait for me at the door,” Thomas instructed as they stepped out of the elevator.
Charlotte nodded.
Suddenly, Thomas turned to look at her.
Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat under his gaze, her guilt evident.
“Charlotte, don’t make me come back and find you gone, alright?” Thomas said, his voice low, a clear warning.
Charlotte broke into a cold sweat.
She always felt as if Thomas could read her mind, as if he knew everything.
Her big eyes narrowed as she offered a sincere, obedient smile. “Mr. Tom, I’ll definitely be here waiting for you.”
Her baby face looked utterly innocent, radiating honesty.