Andrew wasn't particular. Since the mountaintop view was no longer an option, he shifted his gaze to Hill's profile instead.
Her high, straight nose was elegant, and though her face was slender, it didn't appear cold. In fact, there was a striking beauty to it. Her long lashes fluttered like little fans.
"Why does your government always seem to prefer Cadillacs?"
Andrew was merely making small talk.
"How would I know? It's all government procurement," Hill replied, eyes fixed on the road. "But this car's solid and durable hard to break."
He wasn't sure how to talk to an ice-cold beauty. After a brief pause, Andrew cleared his throat.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
Hill's hands didn't leave the wheel, but she turned slightly to glance at him.
"No."
Seriously?
No boyfriend?
Based on her age, she had to be around twenty-eight or twenty-nine. With looks like that and a figure like a runway model, how could she possibly be single?
Andrew struggled to believe it. In such a free-spirited country, didn't most girls lose their virginity before high school?
And Hill was well past what people called a woman's "golden age." Was it something physical? Emotional? Psychological?
His thoughts spiraled, and the car settled into silence.
Other than a few professional interactions, he really didn't know much about her. In the movies, she was always just a background figure, no noble sacrifice like Agent Coulson, no incredible skills like Black Widow.
She was the equivalent of a class monitor: excellent grades, good looks, but ultimately unremarkable.
Hill remained quiet, her cold expression unchanging as she drove.
After a morning of shopping with Wendy and a fierce afternoon battle with the Destroyer, fatigue finally caught up with Andrew. The gentle rhythm of the car lulled him to sleep in the passenger seat.
About an hour later, the car pulled up at the Rockefeller Commercial Street intersection.
"Mr. Stark, we're here," Hill said flatly.
Andrew rubbed his eyes and looked outside.
"That was quick. Thanks, Agent Hill. I appreciate the ride."
"No problem. I was heading this way anyway."
Andrew opened the door and stepped out.
"Oh, could you have my mech suit delivered to my lab? The address is..."
"No need. Everyone knows where Stark Industries is. I'll have someone drop it off. If there's nothing else, I'll be on my way."
He nodded. "Alright. Drive safe."
Hill gave a curt wave, rolled up the window, and drove off.
Inside the brightly lit watch store, Wendy was still waiting on the sofa.
Andrew tiptoed in and signaled to the sales assistant to keep quiet. Clearly exhausted, Wendy had dozed off, curled up with a thin blanket over her thoughtfully provided by the staff to keep her warm.
He crooked his finger to beckon the assistant, who leaned over.
"Do you still have any of the watches I bought for my girlfriend today?"
"The model is still in stock, but that particular color is sold out."
"I think the white and sky-blue ones look great too. I'll take another one."
The sales assistant gave a knowing smile.
"I see, you're planning a surprise for her. But honestly, three of the same model? We have plenty of other styles that would suit her just as well."
Andrew nodded like a model student finally grasping the lesson.
"Alright, let's go with your suggestion. Just make sure everything is packaged properly and delivered to my villa. I'll only sign for it myself."
Delighted at the opportunity, the sales assistant beamed.
"No wonder you're Mr. Stark. so generous! Any woman lucky enough to be your girlfriend must go to bed smiling every night."
"Don't forget what I said," he replied with a wink, then walked over to the sleeping Wendy.
He gently patted her cheek. Wendy was a light sleeper, and her eyes fluttered open almost immediately. Seeing Andrew, her tension melted away.
"Tony, you're back. Let's go home."
Andrew looked at her tenderly. She had waited for him without complaint considerate, reliable, beautiful, and gentle. The perfect little homemaker.
Wendy blushed under his gaze. Her fair cheeks turned rosy, and Andrew couldn't resist giving them a few playful pinches soft and smooth like marshmallows.
She didn't resist but shifted slightly and whispered, "Let's go home. There are too many people around."
Andrew's lips curled into a smile. He pulled her into his arms, her soft fragrance filling his senses. If not for the public setting, he might've made his move right there.
He gave Happy a call, and twenty minutes later, a luxury van rolled up to the storefront.
Hand in hand, the couple got in. The rear seating area was fully separated from the driver's cabin, ensuring privacy.
Even so, Andrew wasn't one to go too far in public. After indulging his tactile instincts, he stopped himself. Wendy, however, appeared flushed and radiant.
That night, grateful for his earlier protectiveness, Wendy gave her all. She pulled out every stop, showing off her full repertoire, letting Andrew understand exactly why people compared a woman to flowing water.
In the Bronx, on Broadway, Mary Jane was performing in a stage play.
But her eyes kept drifting toward the audience, scanning repeatedly for Peter Parker only to be let down again and again.
"He broke his promise… again. He said just last night he'd be here," she muttered, visibly disappointed.
Her emotions spiraled, and she even missed a line.
Her co-star grew flustered, sweat beading under the hot stage lights as their makeup began to smudge.
Meanwhile, our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man had taken the afternoon off after getting approval from Ethan. Wearing a casual suit, he rode his beat-up scooter to the flower shop downstairs and bought a small bouquet of white flowers.
He had wanted lilies, but his wallet betrayed him. The $50 Aunt May gave him yesterday had gone straight to the landlord. Now, he was left with just $10.
Still, with the bouquet in hand, Peter hopped back on his scooter and hit the road. Cruising down New York's asphalt streets, his mood was light, and his spirit, high.
(End of Chapter)
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