Secretary’s Secret Lover by Zayla Quinn

Chapter 239 What's the Point of Putting On Airs?

"Such a shameless girl," the woman holding Lance's arm sneered.

She was one of the barmaids working at Royal Club. Before these women entered the private room,

the manager had reminded them that these people here tonight are real bigwigs of the city. They could

not afford to make any mistakes.

The moment she walked in, she noticed Lance, the most impressive and handsome man in the room.

But his cold manner held off all the barmaids.

She thought there was no hope for her either.

Unexpectedly, when the party was about to be over, she was luckily called out by Lance and left with

him.

It was impossible that she would let a girl who appeared abruptly from nowhere take Lance away.

The woman smiled, "Let's be reasonable. He is mine tonight as I came earlier than you. Wait for your

own chance, okay?"

Yvette had no makeup and looked innocent. The woman thought she was just a college girl trying to

hook up with a rich man.

What a pretender!

She looked at Yvette with disdain. These college girls were not necessarily nobler than her.

Lance glanced at Yvette, refraining from pulling her up.

He didn't use much strength just now. How could she still fall?

Lance stood still, and his dark eyes seemed unfathomable.

Seeing this, Frankie quickly bent down and helped Yvette up.

It wasn't that Yvette was deliberately waiting for someone's help. She had stood for hours in the cold

wind, and her legs had become too numb to get up.

After standing up with Frankie's help, Yvette didn't want to waste time and anxiously looked at Lance,

"I've come for Ellen. I need your help."

Yvette ignored the woman's ridicule. Self-esteem was not the thing she cared about. Ellen was more

important now.

"I don't have time."

Lance refused straightly with no hesitation.

He was mad at her.

Lance knew Yvette had called Frankie, and Frankie had made obvious hints. Last night, Lance had

waited for her at the company until three o'clock.

But Yvette never showed up.

She came to Marcus first, though Marcus wasn't able to help her.

She only thought of him when she had no other choice.

How could he not be mad at her?

After refusing Yvette, Lance turned around and get in the car with the barmaid.

His coldness made Yvette heartbroken.

But she couldn’t give up or who knew how Ellen would be tortured?

She chased to the car, her voice slightly shaking as she pleaded, "Lance, please let me see Jamie. It

won't take long."

Lance narrowed his eyes and said mockingly, "Why do you come to me? Are we close?"

His words seemed to remind her that he had said he would not care about her anymore.

Yvette's face turned pale as she said, "Lance, I know you are angry, but this is urgent. I have no choice.

I beg you..."

Lance curled a cold smile, "What does it have to do with me?"

Then, he looked straight ahead and ordered Frankie to drive.

Yvette stood still. Her heart was as cold as the winter night.

A feeling of helplessness overwhelmed her.

She slowly squatted down and put her arms around her knees, not wanting others to see her sadness.

But it was already past 1 am, and there was no one at the entrance of Royal Club.

Inside the car, Lance's face darkened.

Frankie looked at Lance through the rearview mirror. He hesitated for a second and asked, nMr.

Wolseley, should I arrange a car?"

It was dark and cold, and it was not safe for Yvette to be outside alone.

The woman who got in the car with Lance said under the influence of alcohol, "Is your assistant a

pimp?"

Lance's eyes immediately darkened. He said in a cold voice, "Stop the car."

Frankie pulled over. Without waiting for Lance to order, he got out of the car and opened the door.

"Miss, please get off."

Of course, the woman wouldn't go. It was not easy for her to get such a man as Lance.

She said in a sweet voice, "Is there something wrong?"

Her body leaned on Lance intentionally.

Lance's voice was icy and intimidating, "Get off!”

The chilling sense in the two-words sentence frightened the woman.

She obediently got off the car.

Nonetheless, she did not act in vain. Frankie paid her 200 dollars.

After getting in the car again, Frankie did not start the car immediately. Instead, he looked at Lance in

the back seat.

Lance ordered, "Drive back."

Yvette's legs were numb from squatting. She didn't know who she could go to now.

Suddenly, the Black Bentley appeared in front of her.

The car window slowly went down, and Lance's handsome face was immersed in the darkness.

"Get in."

Yvette did not hesitate. But she was so hurried that her numb legs couldn't move as quickly as she

wanted. She tripped over the door frame.

"Ouch..."

Yvette snorted slightly and knelt at Lance's feet, her hand clutching his trousers.

The posture, plus Yvette's bewildered face, was lovable yet a bit seductive.

Lance's eyes flickered.

The atmosphere in the car suddenly froze.

Yvette was extremely embarrassed. She quickly got up and sat straight in the car with her hands on her

legs.

The car drove through the dark night.

Lance didn't speak. He seemed tired. He rested his hand on the forehead and closed his eyes.

Yvette was anxious, but she could not dare to disturb him and had to keep quiet.

Finally, the car stopped at Yvette's apartment.

'Send her up," Lance instructed Frankie, his eyes still closed.

Frankie responded and was about to move.

However, Yvette's waiting until now was not just letting him send her home.

"Lance!"

She called out. Lance opened his eyes and looked at her lazily.

Somehow, Yvette remembered how she had been rejected tonight and said, "Do you want to come up

and have a cup of tea..."

In the room.

Lance relaxed on the sofa, his eyes closing and his long legs crossed. He rolled up half of the sleeves

and exposed the muscular arms.

Yvette did not brew tea but cooked some soup in the kitchen. Soup would be better for Lance as he

had just drunk quite a lot of wine.

Yvette took the soup out and placed it on the table. She said softly, "Have some soup."

There was no chair by the sofa. Yvette just stood there. She had taken off the coat and was only

wearing a white sweater. A pair of blue jeans tied the waistline clearly, making her figure exquisite.

Though it was not a revealing outfit, the scene still turned Lance on.

Lance narrowed his eyes and raised his hand to take a sip of the soup.

The steaming soup warmed his stomach, and his frowned eyebrows relaxed.

Noticing he seemed in a good mood, Yvette asked hesitantly, "Can you help me make an appointment

with Jamie?"

Although Lance knew her purpose, he was still irritated hearing her straight words.

Lance’s face twitched a bit. He said nothing but picked up his coat.

Yvette panicked. She grabbed his arm and said anxiously, "Are you leaving?"

"I've finished the soup," Lance turned and looked at her indifferently.

"Then what about the favor I asked you..."

"Do you think just a bowl of soup could get me to help you?" Lance frowned.

'That's not what I meant," Yvette bit her lips.

Lance took out a stack of money from his pocket and threw it on the table. He said coldly, "Count it as

me buying it."

Yvette was stunned. Her face was pale and her eyes turned red.

Seeing the expression on her face, Lance felt a blast of anger swell up from the bottom of his heart,

making him extremely uneasy.

Lance didn't like this feeling. He walked directly toward the door.

But Yvette caught up, her eyes filled with tears, "Please, Lance. I really have no other choice..."

The next second, she was pressed against the door.

Delicate and intimate kisses fell on her lips.

Lance’s eyes were red as if he had endured for a long time, and the kisses were hard and fierce.

Yvette's legs turned limp. She couldn't resist his kisses.

Lance's move became bolder. His hand slipped under her sweater and directly reached her breasts.

Then he rubbed them...

The sudden thrill sobered Yvette. Her face darkened. She pushed Lance away abruptly.

The two separated a bit. Lance didn't insist. He coldly sneered, "Didn't you invite me home to have

sex?"

"Of course not!" Yvette hurriedly adjusted her clothes and trembled in anger.

The expression on her face was just the same as the one she had when she confronted him for

Charlie.

The anger in Lance's heart immediately ignited. He sneered, "Don't you know what it means to invite a

man home in the middle of the night? You've already invited me. What's the point of putting on airs?"