No More Waiting, She Chooses Love novel Chapter 488

"Jerk!"

So, he said he was done with me, but he was still pulling these stunts. It seemed like he couldn't get me out of his head after all. Maybe Fanny was right; I needed to play my cards right with him.

"Mr. Smith, I've got another engagement tonight. How about we grab dinner tomorrow?" I texted Grant.

His response was immediate, eyes practically lighting up through the screen, "Yeah, sounds great. Is Mr. Collins joining?"

"I'm busy," came Ernest's cold reply.

Grant was about to say something when I cut him off, "Mr. Smith, tomorrow I'll take you somewhere you've definitely never been before."

"Really?" Grant's surprise was palpable. "A place even I haven't been to? Has Mr. Collins been there?"

He always had to include Ernest, knowing full well about Ernest's royal connections.

He was playing it safe, not wanting to end up in hot water.

Luckily, the elevator arrived just then, and Ernest stepped out without another word to him.

Grant grimaced at Ernest's retreating figure, then turned back to me and said, "Director Hudson, at this rate, I might not live to see tomorrow."

With that, he hurried after Ernest. I couldn't help but smirk, feeling my mood lift from stormy to somewhat sunny.

Once I got home, I video called Jefferson.

Joining him on the call, I could hear Conrad in the background, "Hurry up, man. Everyone's waiting."

"It's Felicia," Jefferson's words silenced the room.

Jefferson's eyes softened as he looked at me, "I know everything."

I smiled, "I'm fine, really. Went to work today and everything."

"It's all my fault, Felicia. I've put you through so much," Jefferson was filled with guilt.

"If you say that, you're treating me like an outsider," I paused, "Congratulations on clearing your name."

"He doesn't have any tricks. He's just committed, that's all," I said, making sure Conrad heard that loud and clear.

I wanted him to know that despite whatever happened between me and Ernest, no one else stood a chance.

"Got it, got it. Feeding me dog food even through the screen," Jefferson was in good spirits, seemingly unaffected by the recent upheaval.

"Still competing, Jefferson?" I asked, showing my concern.

For a professional player, competitions are their lifeblood.

After a brief silence, Jefferson affirmed, "Yes."

That single word carried so much determination, yet hesitation.

He had decided to continue despite knowing the risks. Someone had tried to sabotage his career, and they might not stop there.

"I'll be there for your next match," I promised, offering my unwavering support.