Chapter 8: worried to death

Beauttty responded promptly: "It seems that you are quite shy, which might not work well with an inwardly provocative man. If you are genuinely shy, you could try not provoking him face-to-face. You will be much better over the phone. Compliments are free, so why not send them to him all day and see if he responds?"

Joy's eyes widened in realization. Was complimenting all it took? She was far from afraid of that.

She hurriedly opened WhatsApp and searched for Dean's phone number. Sure enough, Dean was on WhatsApp. His username was simply 'Dean', and his profile picture was of a man, identifiable only by a hand and a waist, embracing a large stuffed cat. The elegant hand and waistline were undeniably Dean's.

Joy sent him a friend request with the verification message: "Sexy, I miss you already."

With a reserved yet provocative man like Dean, she had to be unabashedly forward. After all, Dean didn't seem to mind her, and she was the only woman he could tolerate in all these years!

True abstinence was impossible. Dean's years of abstinence were due to his aversion to women, feeling nauseous whenever another woman approached.

She was the only woman he could stand.

It was certain that Dean had certain desires for her; his performance last night was quite suggestive.

Expecting a man of Dean's stature to confirm the friend request immediately was unrealistic; he was likely in a meeting or en route to one.

Just as she finished adding Dean, her phone rang again. Joy straightened her skirt, stood, fetched her bag, and started to head out before answering, "Chris, I'm on my way to the police station, I didn't hear my phone in my bag."

Christopher sounded worried, "Sweetie, why are you going to the police station again?"

"Yes, the negotiations didn't go well. That lawyer was unbearable. I refused and thought it best to file a police report," Joy responded, pressing the elevator button, lying effortlessly.

She thought to herself, 'I'll make you damned people worry to death.'