CHAPTER 42: CHAPTER 42: MRS. FORRESTER

Simon Forrester’s deep eyes curved slightly, as if he was smiling at Sienna Thornton, but no matter how Sienna looked at it, she felt it was a forced smile.

"Not involved?" Simon glanced down at her plastered right leg, the smile at the corner of his lips deepening, "Didn’t you ask Harrison Rowe to tell me that I’m responsible for your leg, and that you won’t accept care from anyone else but me?"

Sienna had initially entertained the thought of persuading Simon to agree to let Maeve come over, but seeing his unyielding demeanor, she couldn’t be bothered to argue further, compromising, "Fine, until Auntie King returns, I’ll just have to endure a bit and be self-reliant."

Her main goal was to get the design diagram from Simon, so now wasn’t the right time to fall out with him. His demands, no matter how unreasonable, were unavoidable; compared to the design diagram, these were minor issues.

With this thought, Sienna flashed a sweet smile at Simon, took the initiative to clear the table, and as she reached for the soup bowl on the opposite side, her hand accidentally brushed against Simon’s who also intended to tidy up.

Simon’s hand was long, with distinct joints, and as fair and clean as a surgeon’s hand. When it touched her skin, the warmth felt like a small flame burning, surrounding her five fingers.

Sienna’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly withdrew her hand, instinctively letting it fall to her side, nervously rubbing her thumb and forefinger together. The spot on her skin he had touched felt as if it had sprouted a heartbeat, pounding incessantly.

"You cook, I’ll wash the dishes." Sienna snapped back to attention, stacking both her and Simon’s tableware, and carrying them into the kitchen.

Simon didn’t refuse, merely responding with a light "Alright," and got up to go to the living room.

Sienna placed all the dishes into the dishwasher, then tore off several kitchen wipes to clean the table. In fact, the table wasn’t dirty at all; Simon hadn’t uttered a single unnecessary word while eating, let alone left any crumbs.

He really was a well-mannered man.

When Sienna emerged from the kitchen, Simon was in the living room watching the seven o’clock news. They weren’t familiar enough to watch the news and discuss current events together, so Sienna silently began to hobble back to her room with her crutches.

As she passed by Simon, he suddenly asked, "Are you going to wash your hair and take a shower tonight?"

Sienna was momentarily confused and instinctively answered, "Yes, how can I sleep without showering?"

Simon stood up, "I’ll go get my coat; you get ready, same place as last night."

"Okay."

When he came out again, the goose yellow shirt Simon had worn was gone, replaced by an off-white T-shirt and a black cashmere V-neck sweater, making him look youthful and bright.

He had changed his shoes and stood calmly at the entryway, waiting for Sienna, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed and unhurried.

Sienna suddenly considered rating him.

If she were to rate his appearance, demeanor, and speech combined, with ten being a perfect score, she would give Simon a 9.5.

A nine-point guy was already a rare find, let alone a 9.5. The half-point deduction was simply because he could sometimes be too blunt and make others feel embarrassed.

But in any case, rounding up makes it almost a perfect ten.

Downstairs at the hair care salon, it was still the same welcoming young lady from yesterday. She approached enthusiastically, asking, "Mr. Forrester, Mrs. Forrester, will it be a hair wash or styling today?"