CHAPTER 53: A SLICE-OF-LIFE IN SINGAPORE

With the CTO secure, there’s only three left to go. CFO, CMO, and COO. Where’s the CEO you ask? Well, Timothy doesn’t need to hire a CEO to run his holding company, he could do that. After all, it’s only one subsidiary and he could focus on it.

He may not have any experience but he has the pill and all the time he needs to study. And since this is his company and has a vision for it, he would make sure it sticks to that. Because usually, hired CEOs would divert from the path. He doesn’t want that happening.

Now, he hoped that tomorrow the remaining candidates would be available for contact tomorrow as Christmas is getting near. And he told his mother and little sister that he was on a business trip and would be back before Christmas.

Seconds later, his stomach grumbled.

"I guess I’ll have to eat," he muttered to himself.

There was a restaurant that he passed by that looked appetizing to his taste. What was the name of it again? Ah! Yardbird Southern Table & Bar. After all, he liked Western foods. Chickens, meat, beef prepared in a Western-style.

Timothy slipped on a clean shirt, grabbed his wallet, and made his way out of the suite. The elevator ride down from the 40th floor was quiet, his reflection staring back at him in the mirrored panel. He stood straight, and made sure it stayed that way.

He is a CEO of a startup automotive manufacturing company, no more hunched posture.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal the bustling hotel lobby. Timothy stepped out with a steady stride, his shoulders squared and chin held high.

He passed the reception desk, the staff offering polite nods, and exited into the humid December air of Singapore. Neon lights reflected off glass towers, and the streets hummed with life, cars gliding smoothly, tourists snapping photos, and businesspeople still in suits despite the late hour.

A short walk later, the warm glow of Yardbird Southern Table & Bar came into view. The scent of fried chicken and smoked meats drifted out the door, making his stomach growl again. Timothy pushed inside, greeted by a cozy atmosphere of dark wood, soft lighting, and the low murmur of conversation.

"Table for one?" the hostess asked with a smile.

"Yes, please," Timothy replied.

He was led to a corner table by the window, where he could see the skyline twinkling in the distance. The waiter arrived shortly with a menu, but Timothy already knew what he wanted.

"I’ll have Lewellyn’s Fine Fried Chicken, with mashed potatoes and corn bread. And a glass of iced tea."

"Very well, sir. Serving time is about twenty minutes. Please enjoy our complementary snacks while you wait."

The waiter jotted it down and left. Timothy leaned back, allowing himself to take in the moment.

Two minutes later, a small wooden tray was placed in front of Timothy. On it sat a basket of warm cornbread bites with a side of honey butter. The aroma of freshly baked bread mixed with the faint sweetness of the butter made him realize just how hungry he was. He picked one up, spread the butter across it, and took a bite. Soft, buttery, with just the right amount of sweetness—it was simple but comforting.

Time passed, and Timothy scrolled absently through his phone, occasionally glancing outside at the glittering Singapore skyline. Exactly eighteen minutes later, his main course arrived. The waiter placed the dish before him with practiced care: golden fried chicken stacked neatly, steam rising from the mashed potatoes, and a side of cornbread still warm from the oven.

"Lewellyn’s Fine Fried Chicken, sir. Please enjoy."

Timothy picked up his fork and knife, sliced into the crispy chicken, and took his first bite. The crunch was followed by juicy, tender meat that nearly melted in his mouth. He exhaled a deep sigh of delight.

"Damn... this is good," he muttered, savoring the rich flavor.

He finished his meal in under seven minutes and then hailed the waiter for a bill. Moments later, the waiter arrived and then showed him the bill.

It cost him seventy Singapore dollars. Timothy didn’t flinch at the amount; instead, he pulled out crisp hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and handed them to the waiter.

"Keep the change," he said with a small nod.

The waiter bowed gratefully. "Thank you very much, sir."

Timothy stood, adjusting his shirt and slipping his wallet back into his pocket. He stepped out of the warm interior of Yardbird into the cool night air.

He took two steps onto the pavement before it happened.

Someone bumped into him. The impact wasn’t strong, but it was enough to make him pause. Timothy turned instinctively, ready to say something—but the words froze on his tongue.

It was a girl. A beautiful one.

She stood before him, her hands nervously brushing down her skirt as she bowed slightly.

"S-sorry... I wasn’t looking where I was going," she said bashfully, her soft voice carrying a faint tremble.

Timothy’s eyes widened for a brief moment. Her long dark hair cascaded past her shoulders, catching the light of the streetlamps. She wore a cream blouse with lace detailing, delicate yet elegant, tucked neatly into a fitted brown skirt that hugged her figure with subtle grace. Her complexion was fair, her almond-shaped eyes were beautiful, framed by long lashes that made her gaze almost magnetic. Gold drop earrings swayed lightly as she moved, adding a touch of refinement to her appearance.

For a heartbeat, Timothy was starstruck.

"No, it’s fine," he managed at last, offering a faint smile. "Just... be careful next time."

She looked up at him then, her eyes meeting his, and for a moment, it felt as though the noise of the city had faded into silence.

"Thank you," she whispered, bowing her head again.

Timothy nodded, still caught off guard by her presence, unsure whether to continue walking or try to say something more.

"Uhm...okay, I’ll get going," Timothy said.

"Me too...I am very sorry for the disturbance," she said, bowing her head low.

They parted ways.

He caught a glimpse the moment the collision happened. It was because she was looking at her phone, reading something. Well, it’s not like you get to get bumped with a beautiful lady. It’s sad that he hasn’t asked her name. At his age, men would have a girlfriend at this point. He wondered if he would have his first one.

"Oh shit...what am I thinking? I have a business to run. I might not have time to do that. Still, if I’m going to get a girlfriend, I hope she’ll be as pretty as that girl."

Meanwhile, the girl that bumped him fumbled with her phone as she steady it. The phone was vibrating as there was an incoming call. She quickly answered it and brought it up to her ear.

"Yes, Aunt Lim, I am at Marina Bay Sands, I’m heading over there."