Wife 23
Wife 23
Noelle nodded. “I’m not well–versed in antique and can’t tell the difference between most things. I was wondering if I could ask for your help, since you seem quite knowledgeable about these antiques.”
“I’d be honored to!” Charles said as he narrowed his mind. “What were you thinking of gifting Mr. Shaw?”
“Hmm, probably a calligraphy piece, but anything else would work too. My grandfather has beautiful handwriting. Oh, he also shares similar interests to my maternal grandfather.” Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.
Noelle felt that Charles would probably have a better idea of what to suggest if she told him that.
Sure enough, Charles nodded when he finished listening to her. “Ronald.”
Ronald soon appeared. He gazed at Charles attentively, doing his best not to have his gaze stray toward Noelle. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Have Mr. Quinn bring out the newest shipment of antiques.”
“Well…” Ronald gave Charles a startled look, and he could not stop himself from glancing at Noelle. Noelle did not know what they were talking about and merely gave him a friendly
smile.
Charles‘ eyebrows furrowed together almost imperceptibly, and Ronald immediately jerked to attention, immediately averting his gaze away from Noelle as he said, “Alright, I’ll get to it immediately!”
Ronald thought to himself, ‘Charles has spent so much time sourcing these antiques, and they’re all collectors‘ items. If he’s allowing Noelle to look through them, that means…”
He did not dare dawdle and immediately passed the message to Mr. Quinn and his employees. When he emerged again, he saw his boss and Noelle leaning against different walls. A nervous look appeared on his face as he said, “Everything has been prepared, Mr. Hoffman.”
Charles nodded and glanced at Noelle before he walked into the room. “Let’s go!”
Noelle hurried after him and glanced around her surroundings in awe as they entered a charmingly decorated room together.
She had thought the antiques outside were already impressive enough and had not expected to be greeted with an even more breathtaking sight inside the room.
Charles noticed the look on Noelle’s face, and his lips curved upward subconsciously as he motioned for Ronald and Mr. Quinn to leave the room. The two exchanged glances before they left and closed the door behind them.
Noelle was distracted by the antiques in the room and had no idea that Ronald and Mr. Quinn had left.
Charles smiled slightly as he leaned against the desk, propping one hand against the desk as he used his deep–set eyes to gaze intently at Noelle’s side profile.
Noelle looked around and could not help but give Charles a doubtful look after seeing Francesco Petrarch’s work. “My grandfather owns his work too,” she said as her eyes met his. She felt her heart skip a beat, so she blushed as she looked away and asked, “Oh? Where did your assistant and the shopkeeper go?”
“Got your eyes on it?” Charles asked, not answering the question.
Noelle bit down on her lip. She had not managed to change the subject, and a slightly bashful expression appeared on her face as she shook her head and said, “No. I’m not too familiar with these works. Why don’t you guide me along, Mr. Hoffman?”
The corners of Charles‘ lips curved upward ever so slightly into a smile, and Noelle noticed. A surprised look appeared in her eyes, but she forced herself to calm down as she called out to him, “Mr. Hoffman?”
“Alright.” A hint of an emotion that was difficult to place was evident in his deep voice.
Charles looked around him, and his eyes finally landed on a chessboard on the table. This chessboard differed from most other chessboards on the market as it was made from emerald.
His elegant fingers moved against the chessboard, brushing against the scratches as he asked, “Does Mr. Shaw play chess?”
Noelle looked toward where his fingers were, and an excited look flitted through her eyes. when she saw the chessboard. However, she soon answered, “It’s alright, let’s see what else would do!” She liked it, but given it was an antique, she was sure it would cost a lot of money.
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