Chapter 47: Flattery and Forgiveness

"Do you feel a bit better, President?" Claire asked as she set a bowl of mild millet porridge in front of Lucas, who still had a sour look on his face at the breakfast table.

Lucas glared at the porridge, his scowl deepening. "Are you kidding? I'm sick, and all you serve is this bland stuff?" He was a meat lover; a meal without meat hardly felt like a meal.

"But you're running a fever, and high-calorie, greasy foods aren't suitable right now," Claire explained patiently, unfazed by his moodiness. He was never exactly a cheerful person, and with a recurring fever, it was already impressive he'd come down for breakfast at all.

"The fever's gone," he retorted, still frowning. *Stop treating me like I'm fragile or something,* he thought.

"Even so, fevers can make the stomach sensitive. Let's stick to something light for breakfast, and at lunch, I'll make your favorites. Deal?" She scooted her chair closer to him and lifted a spoonful of porridge to his mouth, coaxing him with a gentle smile.

A hint of her faint floral fragrance wafted toward him, inexplicably calming his irritation.

With a bit of reluctance, he opened his mouth to take the porridge she offered, then grabbed the bowl and downed it in a few big gulps before handing it back.

Hmm. *Not bad,* he admitted silently.

Claire took the empty bowl, a small, satisfied smile on her lips.

"What are you staring at?" Lucas asked, sensing her gaze lingering on him as she held the bowl.

*Oh no, busted,* she thought, sticking out her tongue in embarrassment. She turned her head slightly, then looked back at him with open curiosity. "President, Sarah mentioned that you're a renowned perfume designer?"

"Sarah?" He frowned, trying to match the name to a face. "Who's Sarah?"

"The employee at your company's Left Holdings counter, remember? You met her yesterday." *Wow,* she thought, *his memory really is terrible if he can't recall his own staff.*

After her reminder, an image of a pale, frightened face surfaced in his mind. *Was he really that intimidating?* The girl had looked terrified.

"What exactly do you want to know?" he asked, suspecting she was fishing for information.

"So, did you design 'Kiss BB,' the fragrance that's known as the Queen of Perfumes?" she asked, her eyes wide with admiration.

Lucas took a bite of green veggies, glancing at her sideways. "You doubt it?" he scoffed. *He, Lucas—the renowned master of perfume design?* He'd practically restructured Left Holdings at twenty-two, transforming the group from a finance-focused entity into a successful cosmetics company. His success was no accident.

"No, no! I totally believe you!" She hastily shook her head. She'd had her doubts at first, but now she was convinced. "It's just… you're amazing! To have created something as elegant and sophisticated as 'Kiss BB.'" Her face lit up with admiration, her bright eyes sparkling.

Raising a brow, Lucas gave her a half-smirk. "That sounded suspiciously like flattery. What do you want from me?"

"Huh? Flattery?" She blinked innocently. "No way, President. I just genuinely think you're awesome."

"Really?" he asked, still unconvinced. But as she nodded earnestly, his stiff, sour expression softened, and a slight smile crept onto his lips. "Well, since you've done such a good job of cheering me up, I'll let it go. We'll forget any past grudges."

*Grudges?* she thought. *Did they even have any?* But if he wanted to call it even, she was more than happy to go along.

"Yep! You're the most generous, forgiving man I've ever met," Claire said with a grin, continuing her flattery now that she'd discovered his weak spot.