Arrogant President Dotes on Me

After Baron left to go to the company, Abner entered, bearing food, and Andrea laughed a little awkwardly, saying, "Sorry for the trouble."

"It's no trouble, Miss Anderson." He set the tray of food on the bedside table, and broached, "Actually, there is something I'd like to discuss with you. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I've decided I've got to tell you. That day, when you made me promise you that I would inform you of the Master's heart palpitations..."

Andrea frowned. "Yes? And?"

Carefully he said, "When you hung up the phone, I relayed your request to the Master."

Andrea choked a little on her food. Of course she'd known that Abner is Baron's man, first and foremost, and that she shouldn't have him keep her secrets, for him to expose her this fast-it seemed a little uncalled for. When she finally finished coughing, she asked weakly, "So... what did Baron say?"

Abner poured her a class of water, handed it to her. "He didn't say much of anything." Then he paused, said hesitantly, "There is something else I'd like to say, but I don't know if you're interested in hearing it. If not, please pretend I never mentioned it." She raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

He thought through his words carefully, before saying, "You're a smart young lady, Miss Anderson, so I think you're aware that the Master's feelings for you run deep. No matter what happened between you before, or why you're together now, it's not as simple as it may seem. I hope you can understand."

She nodded. Even if she'd not understood such things before, all the things that happened in City A, as well as yesterday's events, have led her to comprehend matters like these. If she went purely by what Baron said, there would only be the mistress contract between them. But if that were the case, he'd have no cause or inclination to help her.

Seeing that she wasn't refusing to see reason, Abner smiled appreciatively. "So you see, now that there's true sentiment between you two, and you worry for his health, you should be with him, be at his side. This way you can care for him, and be with the person you like." His words affect Andrea deeply. Before this, she'd never once considered her and Baron doing away with the contract, developing a different relationship. Because it wasn't possible, was it?

But now, to have someone else tell her that Baron's affection for her is special, to ask her if she'd remain with him even after the contract expired...

"Just think about it, Miss Anderson," said Abner gently. "I'll go about my business." He could see that Andrea was seriously considering his words, so he gathered up her empty dishes and took his leave of her.

Andrea, alone in the room, reflected on everything that had ever happened between her and Baron, and finally came up with an answer. It... wasn't possible. First of all, she hadn't yet discovered the cause of Baron's heart palpitations, or who the woman who looked exactly like her was. Moreover, she wasn't good enough yet. She had neither the finances nor the capabilities to truly stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Baron Howard.

Feelings weren't unconditional. A person's place in society had to be considered. She wanted mutual respect, mutual understanding, mutual support-not one person as the main event and the other as a hanger-on. That was why she couldn't so much as discuss love with Baron.

So if there would ever be a day where she was really with him, it would be truly, properly with him, for no reason other than they wanted to be together.

When Baron got home, he saw there was not even a trace of Andrea in the living room. Immediately, his expression darkened as he assumed that she'd not heeded his words and just left. After all, it would hardly be the first time she'd done such a thing. "Abner, where is Andrea?" he asked ominously.

Abner guessed by his expression the path that his thoughts had taken, and explained, "Miss Anderson has been in her room all day. She's not gone anywhere."

Baron can't help but be surprised. "She's been in her room the whole time?" Without waiting for Abner to reply, he rushed off to check. When he opened the door, he saw Andrea sitting in the glow of the bedside lamp, writing something with a pen. Baron arched a brow, strode over, and demanded, "What are you doing?"

Andrea, startled by the sudden voice, jumped, and the pen in her hand made a wild mark across the page. "How do you move so quietly?" she asked crossly. "You scared me half to death."

He smiled, picked her up, and set her on his lap, saying, "You were too focused on what you were doing." His took the piece of paper from her, gave it a look. It was a plan of all the things she intended to accomplish in the next three years. One time took him by surprise. "You plan to premier as a designer at next year's Paris Fashion Week?"

She nodded. "Yeah... but this is just a rough plan, I haven't gotten into the specifics yet. You're not allowed to laugh at me!"

He shook his head. "Why would I laugh at you? This won't be hard at all. As long as it's what you want, I can arrange for it to happen anytime."

Andrea was momentarily speechless. She'd forgotten just how powerful he was. For him, Paris Fashion Week was a trivial matter. Designers who worked with the KJ Group for a long enough time apparently all got the chance to go. Finally she said, "I want to accomplish it on my abilities alone." Quietly she added, "You're not allowed to get involved!"

Seeing how serious she was, he nodded. They sat in peaceful silence for a long time, before he confessed, "Andrea Anderson, I admit I can't let you go. Stay with me."

At first she thought she'd heard him wrong, but when his expectantly waiting expression didn't change, she knew she really had to answer. The things Abner had told her... she'd been surprised, but had still felt more or less prepared.

But she had never, ever expected Baron to just say something like this. For somebody of his temper, she'd thought that no matter how much he liked someone, he'd talk down to them, demand things of them. She hadn't anticipated he'd be like this. Hadn't thought he'd say with such hope, such pleading.

Pleading? How could he plead with her, or acknowledge he wanted to be with her?

She swallowed hard, feeling sick, feeling soft. After all, it wasn't as if she didn't have feelings for him. But she'd considered every aspect of the affair all day, and so her answer was, "I can't. At least, not now I can't."☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐