The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 61

Quinn felt restless for the next few days.

Between ward rounds and charting, she secretly searched on her phone: "gala outfit ideas," "understated luxury dresses," "how to make a lasting impression."

Over the weekend, Quinn called Lydia Lane to drag her out shopping.

"Lydia, I... I don't really have anything suitable to wear... I want to buy something new."

Lydia immediately caught Quinn's underlying meaning and said enthusiastically, "Leave it to me! I guarantee you'll be the most stunning woman at the gala!"

They walked into a boutique, where Lydia immediately spotted a dress on a mannequin.

It was a burgundy velvet slip dress. The color was rich but not garish, and the cut was incredibly form-fitting, perfectly hugging the curves of the bust, waist, and hips. The delicate straps exposed a generous expanse of luminous shoulders and collarbones, while the back featured a plunging V-shaped cutout.

"Try this one!" Lydia's eyes lit up.

"Is this... appropriate?" Quinn hesitated, having never worn anything so seductive.

"Why wouldn't it be? I think it's perfect!"

Under Lydia's persistent urging, Quinn stepped into the fitting room. It took her a long time to finally emerge, a deep blush painting her cheeks.

"Oh my god!" Lydia circled her, letting out an exaggerated gasp. "Quinn, you look absolutely gorgeous! This dress was practically tailor-made for you!" She leaned in close to Quinn's ear and whispered with a grin, "I bet my life that when Dr. Foster sees you in this, he won't be able to look away. You're going to completely captivate him!"

"Lydia, stop joking around!"

"I'm so jealous of your figure!"

Quinn maintained a graceful smile, but her gaze subtly shifted, searching for the figure standing beside Dean Quinton, engrossed in conversation.

Garrison wore a perfectly tailored dark gray suit that accentuated his tall, commanding frame. Under the lights, his profile looked striking, yet undeniably aloof. He seemed completely absorbed in his conversation, not sparing even a passing glance at the commotion surrounding Quinn.

Quinn pressed her lips together and picked up a glass of wine. She deliberately adjusted her posture to better display the elegant curve of her neck and the radiant skin of her legs peeking through the slit of her dress, then casually drifted a few steps closer to Garrison's direction.

Unlike her usual habit of calling him by his full name, she softened her voice and simply murmured, "Garrison."

Garrison turned at the sound, his gaze landing on her. His amber eyes were completely indifferent, regarding her exactly as he would any other colleague dressed up for the occasion. His eyes lingered for barely a second before he offered a polite nod.