Chapter 284: Chapter 294: Handsome Guys Generally Marry and Have Children Late

His colleagues were dumbfounded. "..."

They looked at Holly Winslow, then at Mortimer Quincy, then back at Holly Winslow.

They were absolutely reeling.

They were utterly consumed by jealousy.

Jealousy twisted their features beyond recognition.

It’s either a feast or a famine.

Todd Quinn, the one with the buzz cut, finally managed to speak. "Hey there, Kiddo’s wife. I’m his colleague, Todd Quinn." He politely extended his hand as he spoke.

Hearing "Kiddo," Holly Winslow paused for a moment, only realizing he was talking about Mortimer Quincy after a beat. She quickly and politely responded, "Hello."

Just as she was about to extend her hand, that guy Mortimer cut in, coolly telling Todd Quinn, "A ’hello’ is good enough. We can skip the handshake."

Todd Quinn didn’t get angry. He retracted his hand and teased with a smile, "Kiddo, aren’t you a little too possessive? Not even a handshake?"

"Nope. She’s my wife."

Mortimer dished out the blatant PDA without a hint of hesitation. As if that jab wasn’t enough, he added, "Find your own."

The perpetually single Todd Quinn was speechless. "..."

’He was twenty-eight and had been single his whole life, without even a first love to his name.’

’It’s not embarrassing,’ he told himself. ’I have a master’s from a top university. I spent all those years focused on my studies.’

He tried to console himself.

If Mortimer Quincy knew he was consoling himself like this, he would probably just give him a cool, indifferent glance.

Just then, the elevator arrived. "Third floor."

Mortimer Quincy stopped talking to them and entered the elevator with his arm around Holly Winslow’s shoulder. Inside were some of Mortimer’s female colleagues, who all looked at Holly curiously.

"Is that his wife?"

"I don’t know, I’ve never seen her before."

"That girl is so pretty. Her skin is so fair."

"I don’t think she’s his wife. Probably his sister."

The whispers were quiet, but Holly Winslow still heard them. "..."

’His sister?’

’Do I look that young?’

Suddenly, a man’s magnetic voice sounded in the elevator. "Honey, what do you want to eat later?"

Holly Winslow was at a loss for words.

She looked up at him. "Seafood fried rice."

The elevator fell silent. With a DING, they reached the first floor.

Once they were out of the elevator and a short distance away from the others, she couldn’t help but laugh. She blinked, asking curiously, "Why is everyone at your company so interested in your wife?"

"Because my wife is gorgeous—the most beautiful little fairy in the universe," Mortimer Quincy said, arching an eyebrow.

Holly Winslow was speechless.

She’d be a fool to believe him, but she loved hearing it anyway. She said with a playful pout, "Good. As long as you know. Your wife is a total charmer—loved by all who lay eyes on her."

Mortimer Quincy thought about it seriously for a moment, then affirmed, "Yep, that’s about right."

Holly Winslow couldn’t help but laugh at their daily ritual of mutual flattery. "You’re a heartthrob too, honey. Everyone who sees you falls for you."

The seafood fried rice shop wasn’t big, but it was packed. When the two of them arrived, there were four or five people already waiting, and with the addition of Mortimer’s colleagues, the line was now over a dozen people long.

Holly Winslow thought it would take too long and suggested finding another place, but Mortimer Quincy went up and spoke a few words to a server, then paid one thousand yuan for a VIP card.

VIP members were seated first.

It was a bit unfair, but that’s how society works—money talks.

A minute or two later, Mortimer Quincy and Holly Winslow were seated, leaving Mortimer’s colleagues to wait in line.

Mortimer Quincy’s colleagues were speechless. "..."

’Mortimer had eaten here with them plenty of times, but he’d never once gotten a VIP card.’

’But the moment his wife shows up, he gets one...’

Holly Winslow felt a small pang about the money, but she forgot all about it when it was time to order. She nudged Mortimer Quincy’s arm with her elbow. "Honey, I’ll get the shrimp fried rice, and you get the scallop fried rice. Does that sound okay?"

Mortimer understood perfectly; it was just a formality. He knew he didn’t have any real say in the matter. He looked at the server and said, "We’ll have those two, and an order of fruit."

Hearing there was also fruit, Holly Winslow’s eyes crinkled into a smile. After the server left, she declared magnanimously, "You spent so much, honey. I’ll treat you when I get my paycheck."

Mortimer Quincy arched an eyebrow. "There’ll be some left for me? Will you have enough after buying all your clothes and bags?"

His wife had a habit of spending her next paycheck before she even got it, and she always came up short.

The result of not having enough was that she would "secretly" dip into his salary, only to pay it back later.

He got a notification for every transfer and deposit. At first, he was quite pleased to see her using his card. But then he discovered that she was paying back the exact amount she used, down to the last cent.

Not a cent more, not a cent less.

As if he wouldn’t notice.

This was right around the time he was feeling "displeased" that his wife wasn’t helping herself to his salary, so he came home and started acting "angry."

The result was that Holly Winslow was so upset she burst into tears.

Called out, Holly Winslow wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. She giggled. "We can always get street barbecue."

...

It had been four or five days since Holly Winslow’s colleagues had seen the handsome guy who worked on the sixth floor arrive before nine o’clock.

That day at noon, Holly Winslow was having lunch with a few colleagues. After a few days, she had fit in quite easily with the circle of young teachers.

Holly Winslow was messaging Mortimer Quincy back, telling him she wasn’t coming downstairs for lunch today because she had to grade her students’ papers soon.

The center had just held its monthly exams.

Suddenly, she heard Sandra Marshall, who was sitting next to her, say, "Did that gorgeous guy from upstairs quit? I haven’t seen him in days. He used to always be downstairs by 8:55."

"I don’t know. He’s probably lovesick for me. I even dreamed about him yesterday. I dreamed that we got married."

The speaker, Melody Shaw, was a short girl with a round face and pretty, round eyes. She added, "If my mom hadn’t woken me up this morning, I would have kissed him."

Hearing this, the man’s actual wife choked on her food. "COUGH, COUGH..."

She had long wanted to tell them Mortimer Quincy was her husband. But since they never brought him up, it would have felt awkward to mention it out of the blue. She just never found the right opportunity.

Chelsea York quickly patted her on the back and said with a laugh, "Teacher Shaw, you scared Teacher Winslow so much she choked."

Once Holly Winslow had recovered, Melody suddenly added, "Speaking of which, Teacher Winslow, you’ve never seen him, have you? He’s incredibly handsome. I heard he’s a student at Branton University." As she spoke, she took out her phone and scrolled to a candid photo of Mortimer Quincy to show her.

In the candid photo, Mortimer Quincy was giving the camera a cold, deathly glare, clearly unamused.

This was exactly why Holly Winslow trusted him. She put down her chopsticks and looked at them seriously. "I have seen him. He’s my husband."

Her tone couldn’t have been more serious.

Her serious declaration was met with laughter from Chelsea York and the others. Melody Shaw swallowed her food and joked, "Teacher Winslow, your imagination is even better than mine. I just dream about it, but you’re already making it a reality."

"Then again, I’m going to start thinking like you. He’s *my* husband."

Holly Winslow was speechless.

She held up her hand to show them her ring, trying to explain again, "It’s our wedding ring. His matches mine."

It wasn’t like Sandra Marshall and the others had ever noticed Mortimer’s ring. All they ever saw were fleeting glimpses of his handsome face. They all burst out laughing.

Sandra Marshall couldn’t suppress a grin. "Okay, okay, Teacher Winslow. That’s enough. Stop showing off your fashion ring. Maybe I’ll go buy one tomorrow, too."

These days, many young women liked to wear fashion rings. Plus, Holly Winslow was only twenty-two—who would seriously think she was married?

Besides, even if she were really married, her husband couldn’t possibly be the gorgeous guy from upstairs. They’d heard he was a Branton University student and hadn’t even graduated yet.

Getting married before graduating?

Of course not!

Because handsome guys usually marry late.