Chapter 8 Everything unfolded in a flash. Shawn had already stormed out of the dining area before the others at the table could react. Soren observed Tara closely. He knew the collision was unintentional. He had risen too suddenly, and Shawn had been too close. Tara, rubbing her right shoulder with her left hand, had delicate, slender shoulders and a pale, finely defined collarbone. "Are you alright?" Soren asked, surprising himself.

Perhaps the sense of sympathy stirred within him because he felt indirectly responsible for her bumping into Shawn. As the words left his mouth, he wished he could retract them. Tara was the type to seize any opportunity to advance herself. What if she misconstrued his concern for interest in her? However, Tara dismissed it as a mere courtesy. She dropped her hand from her shoulder and replied, "I'm fine.

It doesn't hurt." A flicker of surprise crossed Soren's eyes as he scrutinized her once more, puzzled. Tara pushed her chair back under the table. When she looked up, she found him staring at her as if she were a rare specimen. Perplexed, she frowned and instinctively touched her face, searching for what had caught his attention. "Mr. Farrell, is there something else?" Tara inquired. Why was he gazing at her in such a manner?

Soren snapped out of his reverie, his tall frame straightening with an air of effortless arrogance. "Nothing," he declared before striding away. Tara watched his retreating figure, puzzled but soon shrugged it off. Among the four male leads, only Shawn appeared outwardly steady. Lance exuded gentleness and scholarly demeanor, yet beneath it lay a quiet air of superiority. Jonah possessed an icy detachment, while Soren's moods swung like a pendulum.

Nevertheless, each commanded respect from those around them. Tara decided to keep her distance, even at work. Stella, Leah, and Hailey had witnessed Tara accidentally bumping into Shawn earlier. Based on their assumptions about her and her past conduct, they were convinced she had done it intentionally. Their stares turned accusatory, suggesting they believed she still resorted to such tactics to attract men. Tara caught their judgmental looks but paid them no mind.

After tidying Soren's table, she was eager to finish her shift. Just as she clocked out and stretched, Stella hurried over. Assuming Stella was there to punch out as well, Tara stepped aside to let her pass. "Tara, Gemma wants you to take a mug of milk to Mr. Pearson," Stella informed her. She had already informed Gemma about Tara's collision with Shawn. Gemma was shrewd, and her intentions were never entirely transparent. She likely saw sending Tara to Jonah with milk as a test.

Tara wasn't entirely convinced until she checked her phone and saw Gemma's message in the work group, instructing her to deliver milk to Jonah. "Alright, I'll go," Tara responded flatly before heading toward the bar counter. Stella was convinced Tara would fail Gemma's test, anticipating her eventual dismissal. Tara carried the milk upstairs and knocked on Jonah's door. "Come in," he called out. Tara opened the door but hesitated before entering. "Mr.

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Pearson, Gemma asked me to bring you this milk," she stated, emphasizing Gemma's involvement to clarify that she was only following orders. Jonah glanced up from the project proposal, his expression darkening upon seeing her, although he restrained any outburst. Tara's sole purpose was to deliver the milk and complete her shift. She swiftly placed the warm mug on the coffee table, avoiding unnecessary glances. As she turned to leave, Jonah's frigid voice halted her in her tracks.

Confused, she turned back, the soft light catching in her eyes, making them gleam almost irresistibly. Jonah hesitated before demanding, "Give me the milk," in a sharp tone. Tara promptly picked up the mug and placed it on his desk without further ado. "Have a good night, Mr. Pearson," she bid before departing without delay, her steps swift, as if evading an unseen threat. Jonah's gaze remained cold and inscrutable as he resumed reviewing the proposal.

Outside Jonah's room, Tara carried the tray downstairs with one hand, relieved that there seemed to be no further issues. She could finally complete her shift. Of the four male leads, only Jonah effortlessly managed Pearson Group's demands while pursuing his music career flawlessly. His brilliance, wealth, and unfairly good looks were undeniable. Tara would have chosen an easy life if she had been born into wealth. Yet, for two lifetimes, she had struggled financially.

In her previous life, she had finally saved enough to relax, only to lose everything in a tragic accident - even her life. The more she dwelled on it, the heavier her heart felt, prompting her to cease such thoughts. Upon reaching the first floor, Tara noticed Stella and Leah near the stairs but chose not to approach them. Instead, she returned to the bar counter, washed the tray, and placed it in the dishwasher.

Stella and Leah had been waiting downstairs, anticipating Jonah's outburst at any moment. They were taken aback when Tara returned from the second floor without any sign of Jonah's anger. Observing her return the tray to the bar counter, they exchanged a meaningful glance. "Stella, it seems Tara isn't pursuing Mr. Pearson anymore," Leah remarked. They concluded that Jonah's silence indicated a change in Tara's behavior.

Stella's initial frown dissipated before Leah could notice, and she responded kindly, "Perhaps it was a misunderstanding. Tara can continue delivering his fruit and milk from now on." "A misunderstanding? Mr. Pearson doesn't get upset without reason. It's clear what Tara was up to!" Leah recalled the incident, reigniting her disdain for Tara. Stella appeared troubled but refrained from defending Tara further.

Deep down, she was disappointed by the lack of drama and suspected Tara had grown more cautious. Tara's striking beauty grated on her. She resented that flawless face and figure. Stella was determined to find a way to rid herself of Tara. In her room on the first floor, Tara glanced at the clock - 9:00 pm. She retrieved a bowl of chilled cherries from the fridge and snacked on them while watching a TV series. Her social media remained silent, mirroring the solitary nature of the original host.

Solitude didn't perturb Tara; having friends or not made no difference to her. After watching the series until 10:00 pm, she showered and retired to bed. The day's exhaustion enveloped her, leading her into a deep, dreamless slumber.