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Novel Catalog
Chapter_5
Quinn turned to look at the speaker. It was Abigail Vanderbilt, leaning casually back in her chair with a pleasant scent of perfume surrounding her.
Abigail was the boss of the coffee shop and also Quinn’s friend. Tall at about 1.78 meters, she had short hair and was dressed in a simple black t-shirt and casual pants. Without speaking, many mistook her for a man.
During Quinn’s interview, Abigail had playfully pinched her cheeks, startling Quinn. It wasn’t until Abigail spoke that Quinn realized she was a woman.
Setting down the tablecloth, Quinn smiled and signed to her, “I’m used to it.”
Abigail watched Quinn’s fingers and noticed the redness in her eyes, feeling a twinge of sympathy. Abigail knew the hardships and injustices Quinn had endured in her marriage.
Handing Quinn a freshly brewed coffee, Abigail said, “This is your favorite. See how it tastes.”
Quinn thanked her and took a sip. The rich flavor of the milk tea was comforting, and a smile spread across her face.
With her fair complexion and gentle expression, Quinn resembled a helpless little puppy when she smiled, a look that tugged at the heartstrings. It was one of the reasons Abigail liked to tease her by pinching her cheeks. Quinn hadn’t liked it at first, but over time, she had grown accustomed to it. Habit, Abigail thought, was a powerful thing.
Abigail was kind-hearted. To communicate better with Quinn, she had even taken the time to watch videos and learn sign language, and now she could understand most of Quinn’s signs.
Suddenly, Abigail grabbed Quinn by the arm and led her upstairs. “Come help me with something,” she said.
Quinn quickly set down her coffee and followed Abigail up to a room at the corner of the second floor. The room was filled with colorful paintings.
In addition to running the coffee shop, Abigail was an aspiring artist. Although she hadn’t sold a single painting yet, she proudly claimed to be a “painter.” Her parents had discouraged her from pursuing art, so she had opened the coffee shop as a cover, allowing her to secretly paint.
Upon entering the room, Abigail pushed Quinn onto a stool. “Don’t move. Your job today is to be my model.”
Quinn obediently sat still, accustomed to Abigail’s requests. Abigail enjoyed using Quinn as a model and had painted many portraits of her over the years.
As time passed and the storm outside intensified, the rain began to fall heavily. The sound of raindrops tapping against the windows created a peaceful ambiance in the room. More customers arrived at the coffee shop due to the storm, so the downstairs area grew busy.
Abigail and Quinn had to pause the painting session to help out. With the staff stretched thin, Abigail, as the boss, had to assist with deliveries. She called Quinn to accompany her on the deliveries.
Abigail hopped on her motorcycle, with Quinn riding behind her. Despite the pouring rain, Quinn reached for an umbrella, but Abigail stopped her.
“No umbrellas!” Abigail declared. “It’s uncool to ride a motorcycle with one.”
Reluctantly, Quinn held the coffee close, feeling the cold rain soak through her clothes as they sped through the storm. The thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed, darkening the sky even though it was only noon.
When they reached a building, Abigail stopped the motorcycle. Quinn’s heart skipped a beat. This was Alexander’s company.
