Chapter 29 Wait for Me
In Jackson’s eyes, this must have seemed like a shameless attempt to throw herself at him.
While she was lost in thought, Jackson walked toward the rest area.
Marcelo and the others greeted him with smiles, and they all sat down to chat over coffee.
She wasn’t interested in getting involved in the resort discussion, so she stayed away from the rest area and played golf alone, using the time to stretch her legs.
In the Rest Area.
Jackson took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee, listening to the lively conversation around him.
They started by talking about local landmarks and customs, but the topic soon shifted to the resort project.
“Mr. Mason, although Valentine Group hasn’t had any business dealings with Summit Group, I’m truly sincere about wanting to cooperate with you on the Southshore Resort project. What do you think…?”
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Marcelo paused at just the right moment, glancing at Jackson to gauge his reaction.
Jackson remained silent, his attention unfazed. His right index finger absently traced the watch on his left wrist.
He subtly turned his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as they landed on something on the golf course.
The woman and the caddy, who had been collecting her balls, were chatting and laughing, clearly enjoying themselves in a carefree and lighthearted conversation.
Even from this distance, Jackson could see her radiant smile. Her fair face, glowing in the sunlight, looked almost ethereal.
Marcelo waited patiently for a response, but when it didn’t come, he started talking again, lowering the profit share to a bare minimum, trying to demonstrate his commitment and sincerity.
Jackson finally looked away and, in a cool, detached tone, said, “Mr. Valentine, today is the weekend. Let’s not discuss business.”
Donnell, noticing the shift in Jackson’s mood, exchanged a quick glance with Marcelo and chuckled. “Mr. Mason is right. It’s a rare, sunny weekend. Let’s not talk shop–let’s just enjoy the day.”
On the golf course, Elaine smiled at the caddy, saying, “Thanks for
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teaching me some golf tips.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he replied, flashing a bright, white smile. He was a neat, good–looking young man in his early twenties, a sophomore at Hillcrest Academy. He worked part–time at the golf course on weekends.
At that moment, Domingo approached, handing her a VIP room key card and a paper bag with a fresh set of clothes she had prepared before leaving.
“Ms. Valentine, Marcelo and the others are going to have lunch. Please go to your room to shower and change.”
She looked back, but the group, including Jackson, had already disappeared from the rest area.
Taking the room key and the clothes, she headed back to the elevator and made her way up to the 13th floor VIP room.
After showering and drying her hair, she got ready and left the room.
As she stepped out, the door to the adjacent room opened, and out walked Jackson in a casual shirt.
The two of them locked eyes as the doors to their rooms opened simultaneously. Jackson’s expression remained as indifferent as always, his well–tailored pants making his long legs appear even more striking.
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Her phone rang–it was a call from Domingo. He told her that Marcelo was waiting for her in the lobby downstairs.
While she was on the phone, Jackson had already walked toward the elevator. The 13th floor had a private elevator for VIPs, and it happened to stop at their floor.
She hung up just as the elevator doors were about to close and saw Jackson already inside. She rushed toward the elevator and called out, “Mr. Mason, wait for me!”
But in her heels, she was just a moment too slow
Jackson stood straight inside the elevator, not pressing the button to delay the door from closing.
She watched in frustration as the doors slowly closed, then, in a burst of irritation, slapped the door and kicked it in anger.
