Free Web NovelChapter 367: Chapter 365: Hole-in-One
Mia Grant told him to be serious.
"He’s your good friend, after all. You don’t have to be so resentful."
"I don’t want to be his brother right now. I just want to be his brother-in-law, as you well know."
Yates Donovan added, "Who cares about being friends with him?"
Someone was starting to act childish again.
Mia’s mood was decent today, so she didn’t hang up right away. She listened patiently without interrupting as he babbled nonsense for quite a while.
Finally, when he seemed to have talked himself tired, she steered the conversation back on track. "It’s from you. No matter what it is, he’ll love it."
Mia pulled the phone away from her ear and glanced at the call duration.
’Hmm, sixteen minutes. He finally said something that makes sense.’
She put the phone back to her ear. "So, do you have any recommendations?"
"A watch, a tie, a tie clip, cufflinks... or maybe a set of golf clubs? I remember he plays golf."
The main issue was that Silas Grant was good at too many things, and no one knew what he genuinely liked. He never publicly revealed his preferences—a habit stemming from the aristocratic education he received as a child.
By not revealing his likes, he didn’t reveal his weaknesses.
"Golf clubs?" Mia agreed with a smile. "Okay! Thanks~"
"..."
On the other end of the line, Yates Donovan had a strange expression on his face.
It had been a while since he’d heard her voice sound so bright and cheerful.
Just from the sound, he could imagine the look on her face right now.
Although the thought of helping her choose a gift for his rival was a bit unsettling, hearing how happy she was made it all worth it.
’As long as it’s not a losing deal.’
Mia didn’t know much about golf, but she had observed it up close before.
Before she transmigrated into the book, she had worked as a caddie for a day as a part-time job.
That day left a deep impression on her because a client got a hole-in-one, and she inexplicably received a big red envelope with cash.
Her manager later explained that the probability of a hole-in-one was very low. For big bosses like him, it was a symbol of good luck, so they would spread the wealth by handing out red envelopes to celebrate.
All the staff that day—the janitors, the locker room attendants, the groundskeepers, and even her, the part-timer—received a red envelope.
It was said that over the course of the game, that client handed out nearly a million yuan in red envelopes.
The share she received was more than her entire day’s wages from the job.
In her hazy memory, the man slowly walked up to her.
She didn’t dare look up. The brim of her cap was pulled low, its shadow covering half her face.
He didn’t say anything, just paused in front of her for a few seconds before holding out the red envelope.
In truth, she hadn’t received a red envelope for as long as she could remember. She never even got New Year’s money.
So she remembered it clearly. She nervously raised her hands, hesitated for a moment, wiped her sweaty palms on her clothes, and then accepted it with both hands. "Th-thank you, sir."
The manager coughed at her side, and she quickly came to her senses and added a couple of auspicious phrases.
The manager had said that bosses like him all enjoyed hearing such things.
That boss seemed quite pleased, letting out a soft chuckle. As he left, he gently pressed down on her baseball cap, pushing the brim even lower.
Confused, she looked up, only to see the boss’s retreating back.
Looking down, she rubbed the red envelope in her hands. The paper was thick, the edges sharp and stiff. It was a beautiful red envelope.
Two large words were written on it—Good Fortune.
She couldn’t bear to throw that red envelope away later. She carefully removed the cover and kept it in her wallet as an Amulet.
It was just a shame that when she contacted the manager again looking for more side work, they were no longer hiring part-timers.
Mia pulled herself from her memories and searched for golf clubs on her phone.
A run-of-the-mill club could be had for a five-figure sum.
But Silas wouldn’t use something in that price range.
Even the fountain pen he used for daily work was more expensive than this single golf club.
Mia switched apps, did some searching, and finally contacted an auction house.
It was the first time she’d learned that a single golf club could reach a seven-figure price.
Tsk.
Although she wasn’t short on money now, it was obvious she had never truly fit into the world of the wealthy.
She still found herself frequently shocked by the prices of these "aristocratic goods."
She was already immune to the prices of houses, cars, and bags.
But the cost of some everyday trinkets could still startle her.
For example, a bottle of water Carla Sinclair drank cost over a thousand yuan. Some miscellaneous items Yuri Sinclair had bought for her, like a tissue box and a toothpick holder, actually cost a five-figure sum.
’Goddammit, sometimes I feel like the currency rich people use is different from what ordinary people like me use.’
’Do they spend a thousand yuan like it’s just one yuan?’
Every time she thought about the good life these rich people led, it made her want to throttle every last one of them.
She patted her pocket. ’Sigh, I really do need to make more money.’
The auction house she contacted found the collector and actually managed to acquire the club for her.
Of course, she was inevitably fleeced in the process.
It was less a golf club and more an antique, a piece of art.
It was supposedly from the eighteenth century.
Mia listened to the description, her heart already numb.
"Got it. Send me the account details. I’ll wire the money."
She listened numbly and numbly made the payment.
The last few figures on her account balance disappeared in a second.
It was as if only a few numbers had changed, affecting nothing of substance. But Mia couldn’t help but feel the sting.
’Before I transmigrated, forget this "extra sum"—I wouldn’t have had even a fraction of a fraction of it in my savings when I died.’
Mia had class on Tuesday, but since she was going to Portia, she took Monday off as well.
She arrived in Portia on Monday afternoon.
She hadn’t told Silas Grant, but her bodyguards weren’t mute.
So, the moment she landed, she saw Eric holding a sign.
When he saw her, he grinned, stood on his tiptoes, and waved the handwritten sign energetically. "Miss!"
Maybe it was because of a promotion and a raise, but Eric was much more lively this time.
Or maybe it was because his boss wasn’t around.
"Why are you the one picking me up?" Mia asked as he took her luggage. "Don’t you have work today?"
"I do, but a junior employee like me isn’t that busy, of course. Mr. Grant is in a meeting, so he asked me to come get you."
Mia wasn’t surprised.
"Is your injury any better?"
Eric asked with concern after they got in the car.
The wound on her face hadn’t fully healed yet, and she was still wearing gauze over it.
The doctor had said she could take it off, but she thought the wound was too ugly. After some thought, she had slapped a piece of gauze over it before leaving the house.
"Mhm," she nodded, not saying much else.
Eric, on the other hand, opened up like a chatterbox. "I’m so sorry, Miss. When you had your accident, Mr. Grant was on a business trip and only landed this morning. And since it’s a Monday, he has an endless stream of meetings. That’s why he couldn’t come see you right away."
"I know he’s busy. He said he wanted to come see me a few days ago, but I told him not to."
Afraid he would actually fly back, she had specifically reminded him several times that she was fine.
