Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny (Quintessa and Tyrone) novel Chapter 173

Tyrone actually went out of his way to ask the salesperson for a pair of shoes that were both ugly and comfortable. Without hesitation, the clerk pointed him toward the clunkiest pair on the shelf.

Quintessa was speechless with annoyance.

Tyrone kept a straight face. “Take it or leave it.”

Quintessa rolled her eyes, deciding to wear them—she had no other choice, given she was currently barefoot.

She stepped into the unsightly shoes.

Now, Quintessa’s feelings were somewhat delicate because, no matter what, Tyrone was the first man to ever buy her shoes.

Getting flowers from men was nothing new or special, but shoes… it seemed he was the only one!

Tyrone raised an eyebrow smugly. “Tsk, isn’t this pretty good?”

Quintessa’s feet were a size 7—not too big, not too small, and the shoes Tyrone bought fit just right.

She was puzzled. How on earth did Tyrone know her shoe size?

She gritted her teeth. “They’re so stylish. Why don’t you get a pair for yourself?”

Tyrone lifted his chin defiantly. “Of course not. I’m way too handsome to downgrade my look with those.”

He wasn’t like Quintessa, flirting left and right. He hadn’t even won her over yet. If he dressed down, nope, he’d have even less of a chance.

Quintessa chuckled. How she wanted to kick him right now!

Suddenly, she spotted a car behind them, and someone’s head sneakily popped out from a window. Quintessa paused, then narrowed her eyes and muttered, “What a coincidence, huh?”

Tyrone cleared his throat, embracing Quintessa’s waist, and asked, “Alright, spill it. What do you want to do?”

Quintessa rolled her eyes and playfully tapped his lips with her finger. “Nothing, just my way of thanking you. Don’t you want it? Or would you prefer a kick or two instead?”

Tyrone leaned closer, whispering in her ear. “Of course I want it, but I don’t think it’s enough. How about we check into a hotel tonight?”

Quintessa pinched Tyrone’s waist and scoffed. “Ha, dreaming of sleeping together over a pair of ugly shoes? Dream on. Do your employees know how stingy you are?”

The pinch was fierce, and Tyrone couldn’t help but wince.

Quintessa glanced at the car behind them and smirked, her patience evidently at its end.

She tilted Tyrone’s chin and said, “Let’s go, Mr. Cheapskate CEO. I’ve got to make a living to support this household. Otherwise, you won’t even get two bucks in change for a tip next time.”