Part 52

"Is there anyone around here who usually sells breakfast?" Antony asked again.

Claire opened her eyes again, looking at Antony, who was gazing at her curiously. She couldn't help but chuckle.

"Why?" Antony asked, surprised.

"If they do, are you going to go there and buy some?" Claire challenged.

"That's why I'm asking," Antony replied flatly. He was puzzled, wondering what was funny about his question.

But Antony's confusion was met with laughter. "How can a CEO buy breakfast for his subordinates? Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?" Claire mocked.

"What's wrong with a CEO buying breakfast? Is it forbidden? Or do you think I'm the type of CEO who can only use my finger?" Claire nodded at his question. Antony scoffed immediately. "You've been influenced too much by Korean dramas and romance novels," he teased back.

Claire frowned. How could he come to such a conclusion? Antony pointed to one of the cabinets in Claire's room, filled with her favorite romance novels.

"Those are just stories in romance novels," he scoffed. "No CEO buys breakfast in movies or novels because they don't tell the story of the cook." He continued, "And besides, in this situation, I'm not a CEO. I'm just a guy trying to get attention. Do you know what that means?" Antony asked again. Claire didn't answer, and he took it as a sign that she understood. "And I'm looking for the plus points in the woman I'm pursuing," he added. Claire still looked at Antony in disbelief. "Why are you just silent?" Antony ended up feeling frustrated.

Claire shook her head. "I didn't know you could be this talkative, Sir," she replied honestly.

Antony chuckled. "Am I just a statue that can stay silent all day? Don't picture me as a handsome Greek god like the ones you read about in Western romance novels, Claire. I'm not that majestic or handsome. But I'm still handsome in my own way."

Claire laughed too. "I thought you liked it when women compared you to that. Do you want me to compare you to Hercules in strength and as handsome and clever as Hermes?" Claire shot back.

Antony shook his head. "There's no Greek god who resembles me," Antony gently rejected. "I'm not one of their descendants."

"But you're like one of them," Claire replied softly. "You're like Poseidon," she continued, answering Antony's unvoiced question. Antony frowned in disapproval.

"You're a man who likes to be involved with many women." Antony grimaced.

"Claire, I'm not like that," he rejected loudly. "Please, don't bring up Anastasia again. She and I have nothing going on." He continued. Claire shrugged, trying to act indifferent.

"Just say you're jealous," Antony said in a quieter tone. "Why? Are you starting to get interested in me, huh?" he teased again.

"That's your wish, Sir," Claire mocked.

Antony nodded. "Indeed. I do hope you're interested in me," he continued. Claire turned her face away.

"Why? Am I wrong in my guess? You're interested in me, aren't you?" he challenged again.

"Didn't you say you wanted to buy me breakfast? There's a porridge vendor at the end of the block that Flavia also likes."

Antony raised an eyebrow. "Trying to change the subject, huh?" But Claire just glared at him.

Antony chuckled again. In the end, he gave in, picked up the phone on the nightstand, and left Claire alone.

The time showed six in the morning, and a few people were starting their daily activities. Antony walked away from Claire's house wearing sandals he presumed belonged to Gladwin. A few people watched him as he walked past their yards. They didn't hesitate to look up and keep staring at Antony.

Such a thing shouldn't happen if you lived in a housing complex because usually, the residents don't know or get close to one another. But considering that most of those active in the morning were women, it wasn't surprising.

Antony arrived at the porridge vendor he guessed Claire meant earlier. It turned out to be not just a porridge seller. There were also a few vendors selling snacks there. Several people were gathered around a small porridge vendor. When it was finally his turn, Antony was confused about what size of porridge to order. As a result, he ended up contacting Flavia.

"Yes?" his daughter answered on the other end.

"When Claire orders porridge, what does she usually get?" Antony asked shyly.

"Claire? Dad, are you with Aunty C? Is Aunty C no longer mad at you?" Flavia babbled. She still remembered how Claire had looked when Abigail had pretended to be her child at the party the other day.

"Via..." Antony felt frustrated, more because he was uncomfortable and embarrassed by the stares from the people waiting in line for porridge.

"Just tell the vendor to make it according to Aunty C's favorite portion."

"Does he know Claire?"

"He knows Aunty C very well," Flavia answered confidently.

"Okay, I'll order it then." Antony hung up the phone and followed Flavia's instructions.

"Are you a friend of Miss Hampton?" The vendor asked, but Antony didn't respond. "Miss Hampton usually comes here when her nieces and nephews visit," the man continued, seeming to enjoy talking without being prompted. "One of the girls looks just like Miss Hampton, while the other is a beautiful southern girl."

"She's my daughter," Antony finally replied.

The vendor turned to look at Antony closely. "Are you from the South?" he asked curiously.

"I'm of Italian descent," Antony answered flatly. The vendor nodded his head. "How much?" Antony asked after the vendor placed his order in a bag. The vendor quoted a price, and Antony handed him a sizable amount of money. "No need for change," Antony said, and then he walked away. He was sure that some of the people gathered there, who might know the person the vendor had just mentioned, were now talking about him.

However, instead of feeling uncomfortable, Antony found himself smiling. Hopefully, after this, people would gossip about him as Claire's "boyfriend."