Queen of Wild Cards novel Chapter 206

After all, you're both young and might find it easier to communicate. I didn't mean anything else by it, so please don't misunderstand."

"Understood, I won't overthink it. Thank you, Grandpa Orville. I'll take my leave now. Take care of yourself."

With that, Stella finally departed.

Steward followed her out.

"You don't need to see me out, Mr. Shipley. I can walk myself." Stella tried to stop him.

"Ms. Todd, do you really hate me that much? You won't even give me your number?" He had never been so blatantly rejected by a woman in his life.

Stella answered honestly, "I wouldn't say I hate you, but I definitely don't like you either."

"Why?" Steward was genuinely hurt. He was used to women fawning over him, not the other way around.

"No particular reason. I'm already married, so I'm not interested in other men."

Hopefully, that would soothe his bruised ego a bit. It wasn't a lie—she was, in fact, married.

She figured the man had probably never been rejected by a woman before, especially not by someone dressed as a plain Jane like her. His pride was undoubtedly wounded, which was why he was being so relentless.

If he knew that Vernon Lowell had even taken a punch from her, he might feel a little better, but she couldn't say that.

"Seriously? You don't look very old. You got married that early? You're not just making this up, are you?"

He did feel slightly better. So her refusal had nothing to do with him; it was because she was taken.

"It's true. Why would I lie? I'm leaving."

After finishing her sentence at the door, Stella turned to leave. But as she stepped forward, her foot caught on a stray banana peel. Her center of gravity shifted, and she was about to go tumbling down.

She fought to stabilize herself, refusing to end up sprawled on her back in front of Steward.

With quick reflexes, Steward reached out and caught her.

Steward stood at the gate, watching her back until her flashy sports car disappeared from sight. Only then did he reluctantly pull his gaze away and walk back inside.

Failing to get her number twice in a row left him incredibly frustrated.

But he was certain of one thing now: her entire look was a disguise. When he caught her just now, they had been close enough for him to see that her acne was completely fake.

And with eyes that clear and beautiful, how could she possibly be nearsighted?

More importantly, he couldn't shake the feeling that those eyes were familiar. It was like he had seen them somewhere before.

Where could it have been?

Why couldn't he remember?

And why was she dressing up like a country bumpkin to treat his grandfather?

Was she actually telling the truth about being married?