“You’ll have to come earlier next time,” Hadley said.

“Yeah…” He gave a small nod. “Next time.”

“Alright, then…”

She was about to leave again when he added quickly, “Wait—just a little longer.”

Hadley blinked. “Eric, what exactly am I waiting for?”

He hesitated, eyes flicking toward the window as if expecting something to appear.

His anxious expression made her eyebrows knit together.

Not far from the car, someone approached—only to be stopped by Phillips.

“Sir, I’m a waiter from Red Shell Bistro…” The man was indeed in uniform, holding a sleek insulated box marked with the restaurant’s logo.

Red Shell Bistro was known for being exclusive. They offered delivery, but only for members, and only by their own staff.

“Food’s here!” Eric grinned at Hadley, then called out, “Phillips, that’s my order—let him through!”

“Yes, Mr. Scott.” Phillips stepped aside, allowing the waiter to approach.

“Mr. Scott, here’s the food you requested.” The waiter handed over the box with a polite nod.

“Thanks.” Eric took the box, noting with satisfaction that it was still warm.

“Enjoy your meal,” the waiter added before turning to leave.

Eric turned back to Hadley, holding out the box like a gift.

“What’s this?” Hadley frowned slightly, but the aroma had already reached her.

She sniffed the air and tilted her head. “Custard tarts?”

“You’ve got a good nose!” Eric chuckled. “You like them, don’t you?”

Ltτ ?hρτ?rs ιn glov?l.оm

He opened the lid, revealing neatly arranged golden tarts, fresh from the oven. “I made sure they were baked to order, so they’re still hot.”

Then, with a tilt of his chin, he nodded toward the box. “Go on—didn’t you say you were hungry? How could hard, cold bread compare to these?”

Hadley blinked, caught off guard. “When did you order this?”

“Just now,” Eric said with a cheeky raise of his brow. “You didn’t notice? When I was on my phone.”

Realization dawned, and warmth spread across her face.

A while ago, when he was fiddling with his phone, he was actually placing the order.

“Come on. Have some.” Eric smiled. “Oh—and I almost forgot.”

Eric set the box carefully between them, and then unwrapped the cutlery with quiet precision. He handed her a spoon, his gaze warm as he said, “Here—so you can scoop out the filling and eat it.”

“The filling may be light, but there’s more than enough to go around. You can have a few extra.”

Hadley held the spoon mid-air, unmoving. “Why did you get this for me?” she asked quietly.

“Weren’t you hungry?” he replied. Then his eyes dimmed a shade, his voice dipping into something softer.

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