Chapter 186

Marguerite, in the middle of buckling her seatbelt, turned her head. "Huh?”

Lindsay immediately caught the hesitation in her voice and pouted. "Marguerite, do you have another best friend now? Have I been replaced as your number-one?” In the past, she would have agreed without a second thought.

Lindsay's words made Marguerite pause. To be honest, she had worried that Lindsay might have found a better friend over the years. That was one of the reasons she hadn't reached out-that, and the fact that she was now a high school student. Their worlds were completely different. Contacting her might have just been awkward.

But seeing her again, she knew: Lindsay was still the same Lindsay.

Marguerite's eyes curved into a smile. "Of course not."

"Then what was that 'huh' about?" Lindsay pressed. "You don't want me to stay over? I promise I won't distract you from your studies!"

That was a bit of a lie. Best friends who hadn't seen each other in eleven years would have to talk until at least three in the morning. But she would try to control herself.

Marguerite shook her head. "It's not about my studies." A distraction from studying was the least of her worries. Even if she didn't sleep tonight and skipped school tomorrow, it wouldn't derail her academic comeback. They hadn't had nearly enough time to talk that afternoon.

"Then what is it?"

The windows were down, and the cool evening breeze drifted through the car. Marguerite gave Lindsay a quick rundown of everything that had happened since she'd returned. To put it simply, if she were living in her own home, a sleepover would be no problem. But she was renting a room from George. It was generous enough of him to let her stay; she couldn't assume he'd be okay with her bringing guests.

"George? As in George Spencer, the CEO of S.S. Capital?" Lindsay's eyes widened. Marguerite nodded.

A smile played on Lindsay's lips. "I've seen him a few times. He's ridiculously handsome. I had no idea you two were friends in high school."

Marguerite shook her head. "Not friends. Arch-nemeses. I had to practically beg him to rent a room to me."

The word "arch-nemesis" jogged Lindsay's memory. "Oh, the guy who always stole first place from you? You two really are fated to be together."

Marguerite peeled an orange she'd taken from her backpack and handed half to Lindsay. "More like a cursed fate."

Lindsay popped a segment into her mouth, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "I know of him. The

Harris family does business withnet

him. He's the Ice Prince every

socialite in Northpine wants to melt elegant refined, a total gentleman. I know at least a dozen women who are obsessed with him. He's incredibly rich, handsome, and keeps to himself. A guy like that is a rare find these days."

She leaned in conspiratorially. "But as nice as he seems, he's impossible to get close to. Wendy Jones, from the Jones family, had a huge @ush on him. She confessed her love at a gala, in front of everyone. He rejected her flat out. When she started crying, he just

smiled and said, 'Please do that outside.""

iet

Marguerite blinked. She'd never heard that story. Her interactions with George were confined to the villa; she'd never seen that side of him. She knew a lot of people must be attracted to him, but hearing.

from Lindsay stirred a strange feeling inside her.

The orange was a bit sour. "He sounds pretty heartless," Marguerite said.

Lindsay laughed. “Of course he is. You don't get to where he is, a self-made man, without being ruthless. Timothy Harris has a lot of respect for the way he operates.”