Polly Sutton released Victor Parker's arm and was about to sit upright when Victor pulled her over to lean against him as they both looked at the menu.
"I don't plan on getting married," Victor replied, leaving it up to everyone else to interpret what that meant.
Not planning on marriage, hence not caring about it, was one interpretation.
Not planning on marriage, but unable to resist true love, was another.
Forced to lean against him, Polly picked out a few more dishes, grinding her heel against Victor's foot without causing him to flinch; clearly, not only was his skin thick, but so were his soles.
Only after the order was placed did Victor release her, and Isabella Lowe brought up childhood topics, which Polly couldn't get involved in.
Just as Polly picked up her phone to check messages, Victor continued talking with Isabella while casually taking Polly's phone and placing it back on the table without even glancing at her.
His actions were as if a parent took you to a relative's house and you wanted to play with your phone out of boredom, only for the parent to confiscate it, saying it's impolite!
Such fluid actions naturally drew attention from those opposite him, causing Isabella's voice to stumble.
"Polly, do you find these topics boring?" Isabella asked knowingly, "Sorry about that."
"No worries, keep chatting. I'll see if he's been lying about those childhood tales," Polly replied with a gracious, half-smiling glance at Isabella.
This woman must be running a tea garden in the Pacific, always so idle and scheming.
Isabella's face visibly changed, and she raised her glass to mask her emotions.
This remark from Polly implied Victor had even shared childhood stories with her.
When does one share such mundane stories? Certainly during the throes of passion.
Quietude descended on the scene until the waiter served dishes, breaking the peculiar tension.
Polly felt no awkwardness, and continued to gaze at Victor with affectionate eyes.
From that point, Isabella was less inclined to initiate conversations, while Polly embarked on an increasingly bold path, coquettishly asking Victor to feed her and doing one outrageous thing after another, seemingly determined to nauseate everyone by the meal's end.
Halfway through, Isabella could bear it no longer and excused herself, claiming other commitments.
As Isabella left, Polly scoffed, rising from Victor's lap, "Your family might run a tea garden in the Pacific, but I run a white-lotus garden in the African desert."
There's nowhere one can't blossom.
Michael Knight across the table broke into uncontrollable laughter, hardly able to stop.
Victor slowly lowered his chopsticks, "You want me to feed you?"
Polly shifted sideways slightly, not enough, shifted again.
"Do you have a vendetta with Isabella?" Michael intervened, finally ceasing his laughter.
No vendetta, merely a grudge.
Yet Polly felt saying this might seem as if she were sowing discord between them, particularly with someone like Victor.
"No, just professional rivalry leading to envy," Polly hastily replied, eating a few bites, "I'm done, you take your time."
Polly finished speaking and grabbed a small bun before dashing off.
"Are you very concerned about her?" Victor finally looked at Michael, noting it's not the first time.
"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Michael watched Polly disappear completely before turning back to Victor, "But rest assured, I'll do nothing before you divorce."
Victor's face darkened somewhat, "I remember telling you that Polly bore me a son."
"I don't mind."
"Are you serious?" Victor scrutinized his friend, failing to discern his current mood.
"Mr. Parker, while I'm unsure of what happened between you two, you definitely didn't marry out of love, and perhaps the child was—unexpected?"
"He doesn't belong in our world."
"I can go to her world."
"Michael!" Victor spoke coldly, tinged with displeasure.
Yet Michael was unafraid, "I promised, I won't act until you divorce, but you will divorce, right?"
Victor looked at his friend, realizing he wasn't joking.
"Are you blind?"
Polly is carefree; what's the benefit of fancying her?
Michael laughed softly, "Isn't love blind?"
Victor stood to fetch his jacket, "Polly only cares about her own whimsy; let go of the idea."
With that, Victor left, and Michael watched his departure, smiling with enigmatic intent.
Fresh out of the shower, Polly discovered Victor sitting on her bed, calling out instinctively and retreating to the bathroom, leaving half her body outside.
"Victor Parker!" Polly's heart was racing; she suspected he'd done this on purpose!
"Daring to shout at me, getting bolder," Victor mused as he flipped through her manuscript, then looked towards the woman clinging to the bathroom door.
"You came to a girl's room in the middle of the night, be grateful I didn't call you a rogue." Polly hid in the bathroom, clutching her towel, glaring at the man still seated on her bed.
"Girl?" Victor disputed the term.
Polly paused, suddenly recalling the two little buns at home, and felt momentarily guilty, though she couldn't let it show.
"What, being twenty-three prevents me from being a girl?"
Victor set aside her manuscript, humming intriguingly.
"Come here."
"Leave," Polly countered, neck still stiff.
"Want to see the image model of the whimsy?"
"Really?" Polly advanced a step, reconsidered, then retreated, "Send it to my phone."
"Never mind if you don't want to see it," Victor remarked, leisurely tidying his clothes before heading out.
"Wait." Polly glanced at her towel-covered body, dashed to snatch up pajamas from beside the bed, and darted back to the bathroom, "Give me a minute, don't go."
Victor saw a flash of white as her long pale legs unexpectedly crossed his view and quickly vanished.
Victor unconsciously adjusted his tie, suppressing inappropriate sensations.
Yet dormant memories began stirring inadvertently, although he was unaware.
As fast as she could, Polly changed into pajamas, running back to Victor with bright eyes, "Show me the photo."
Victor watched someone who normally wanted to be miles away from him, now so close because of a single photo.
Her damp hair still dripped water, and her face steamed to a blush, what did Michael say?
Love at first sight...