Quintessa chuckled, "This was a fluke, and it won't happen again."
To Quintessa, last night truly was an unforeseen event. If there's anyone to blame, it's the wine for not holding itself back.
Sometimes, when you're on your own for too long, you seek some comfort, maybe last night, something about Tyrone struck a chord.
Seeing Quintessa so nonchalant about being caught in bed, Mrs. York couldn't help but silently sigh. This girl clearly hadn't considered marrying her son.
Girls like her are hard to come by these days. Thinking about it, she's had it tough, as she had fought her battles alone while her son only added to her troubles.
Mrs. York, against her better judgment, said, "Well, my son is a fine young man, you know. But for him to freeload off you isn't right."
Quintessa poured herself a glass of water, and swallowed her pills with a gulp.
"You've seen it yourself, I'm practically sponsoring your son. He crashes at my place, eats my food, and even wears my T-shirts. If I sleep with him, consider it settling his debts."
Mrs. York was at a loss for words.
It did make sense, didn't it? She couldn't understand why her son, usually so generous, was being so stingy this time. She felt embarrassed in front of Quintessa.
Checking the time, Quintessa knew she had to leave. With a smile, she bluntly told Mrs. York, "Don't worry, I won't cling to your son. I never planned on joining the York family. Feel free to look for a daughter-in-law, but Rachel? Not happening. You know I'm quite charming. If your son can't let go, that's on him. I need to head to the set now."
Mrs. York, taken aback, asked, "Where are you off to?"
She wanted to say she wasn't testing Quintessa.
Grabbing her bag, Quintessa answered, "Off to the studio. Got scenes to shoot."
As she ran late today, the director was probably furious.
Mrs. York hurriedly said, "But you haven't taken breakfast."
"I'll skip it. I'm used to it. Since you're here, enjoy your stay. If you want to see how we shoot, ask Manny. I'm off."
Mrs. York called out, "Wait."
"Something else?"
"Well, about last time, um, thank you. This is for you." Mrs. York, being a bit embarrassed, handed Quintessa something from her bag.
Quintessa was surprised, "No need. Tyrone already thanked me."
Mrs. York fidgeted, "That was him, not me. Anyway, I gave it, take it or leave it. I can't owe you."
Quintessa, packing the nicely wrapped gift into her bag, said, "Alright, I'll accept it. Thank you."
As Quintessa opened the door to leave, Mrs. York couldn't help but add, "Actually, my son isn't all bad. Sure, he's a bit of a mess, a little naughty, but at least he's easy on the eyes."
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