My CEO Husband Says I'm Irreplaceable

Chapter 67: Chapter 67: Kind of Like Me?

After getting out of the car, Jared Hawthorne extended his arm, holding it out directly in front of her.

Vesper Grayson raised her hand, linking her arm through his with natural, unhurried grace.

Inside the courtyard, dazzling lights illuminated the guests who had already gathered to celebrate.

No one was seated. Everyone stood in the courtyard, a glamorous scene of rustling silks and subtle perfumes, waiting quietly.

"President Hawthorne." The moment Maurice Sawyer spotted Jared Hawthorne, he quickly came over to greet them, his wife in tow.

"Mrs. Spencer, happy birthday." Jared Hawthorne gave a slight nod, casually handing her a gift box.

Mrs. Spencer hurriedly accepted it with both hands, her face a picture of flattered astonishment.

"President Hawthorne, you’re far too kind! Your presence alone is the greatest honor. How could I possibly accept a gift on top of that?"

Maurice Sawyer chuckled beside her. "It’s a gift from President Hawthorne. Go on and accept it."

Only then did Mrs. Spencer accept the gift with reverence.

"And this is?" Maurice Sawyer’s gaze swept over Vesper Grayson, tinged with curiosity. ’He’d known President Hawthorne for years but had never seen him with a female companion. Bringing one here tonight meant their relationship was certainly out of the ordinary.’

"My girlfriend, Vesper Grayson." Jared Hawthorne glanced to the side, his voice deep and rich. "Vesper, this is Director Spencer and Mrs. Spencer."

To Vesper Grayson, those two words, "my girlfriend," felt so foreign they were almost surreal.

’Is he acknowledging my status?’

She suppressed the ripples in her heart and smiled radiantly, her bearing poised. "Director Spencer. Mrs. Spencer."

The look in Maurice Sawyer’s eyes changed in an instant, replaced by a warm smile. "Miss Grayson, you’re an absolute vision. You and President Hawthorne are a perfect pair—a true meeting of talent and beauty, a match made in heaven!"

Mrs. Spencer chimed in with a smile of her own. "Miss Grayson, your qipao is so chic. It’s rare to see a young woman wear one with such grace and charm."

Vesper Grayson smiled faintly, her tone gentle. "You’re too kind, Mrs. Spencer. Qipaos don’t discriminate by age. In one’s youth, they have a sweet, delicate charm, while in maturity, they exude a graceful sophistication. Different ages simply bring out different kinds of allure."

After a brief pause, she presented a business card. "If you’re interested, Mrs. Spencer, please feel free to stop by my shop when you have a moment. I could help you pick out a few pieces that are both a perfect fit and to your liking."

A flash of surprise crossed Mrs. Spencer’s eyes as she quickly accepted the card. "Oh, lovely! Then I’ll be troubling you, Miss Grayson."

Seeing this, the other society wives nearby flocked over, clamoring for business cards of their own.

A playful look flickered across Jared Hawthorne’s features. He lowered his head, leaned close to her ear, and murmured with a soft chuckle, "Miss Grayson certainly knows how to drum up business."

"I was just borrowing some of President Hawthorne’s prestige. You’re not mad, are you?" Vesper Grayson tilted her face up to his, her expression charmingly sly.

Her makeup today was light and artfully "innocent yet alluring." Her foundation was as sheer as gauze on snow, her eyes soft rather than bold, and her lips were just brushed with a honey-colored tint. Though the makeup was simple, it created a captivating effect that was both pure and sultry, the very picture of gentle charm.

He leaned in again, his voice dropping even lower. "The qipao you gave my mother last time—was that also a masterpiece from your shop?"

’Ms. Chandler absolutely adored that qipao.’

"Mhm." ’It was made using the long-lost art of Kesi embroidery.’

’Her heart stirred as she recalled her past encounter in Ashmore. She had saved a lonely old woman there. Grateful for her kindness, the woman had taken her hand on her deathbed and insisted on teaching her the Kesi technique, for which she had no other heir.’

No one else could hear their private whispers, but they all saw the pair with their heads together, their body language intimate and harmonious.

The sight sent a tidal wave of shock through the onlookers.

’To think this woman had not only caught President Hawthorne’s eye but was also important enough for him to bring her out in public. She must be incredibly significant to him.’

"President Hawthorne, Miss Grayson, this way, please." Maurice Sawyer smiled, leading the way.

"Today is Mrs. Spencer’s day. The seat of honor should remain hers." Jared Hawthorne was a low-key person who disliked upstaging the host, so he led Vesper Grayson directly to a seat at the second-most prominent table. Seeing his mind was made up, Maurice Sawyer stopped insisting and helped his wife to the seat of honor.

The rest of the guests took their seats in order.

The atmosphere at the table was congenial.

Mrs. Spencer chatted amiably with Vesper Grayson about everyday matters. Vesper listened with a faint smile, her poise and sense of propriety impeccable.

Suddenly, Jared Hawthorne’s calm voice cut through the pleasant atmosphere. "Director Spencer, a little more diligence on making that arrest."

The table fell silent for a moment.

Maurice Sawyer’s expression grew serious, but he quickly smiled. "Rest assured, President Hawthorne, I’m personally overseeing this matter. To be honest, these individuals are already high-priority targets. Once we’ve finished cross-referencing the aliases, I’ll increase police presence and execute the arrests."

"Good. Don’t let it drag on. Delays can bring unforeseen problems." Jared Hawthorne’s tone was even, but it held an unmistakable pressure.

"President Hawthorne," Maurice Sawyer couldn’t help asking, "that young woman who called the police... what is her relationship to you?" ’This was the first time he’d ever seen President Hawthorne get involved in such a matter.’

"A friend of my girlfriend’s."

Maurice Sawyer was taken aback for a moment.

Vesper Grayson spoke up at the perfect moment, her smile gentle and refined. "Director Spencer, my best friend accidentally stumbled upon the transaction. The poor girl is terrified. They’ve already targeted her, and I’m very worried for her safety."

Having navigated the political world for many years, Maurice Sawyer was as shrewd as they come.

’A mere friend of his girlfriend was enough to make President Hawthorne intervene personally. The amount of sway she held was simply staggering. After all, no one had ever been able to get President Hawthorne to handle their affairs personally.’

"Rest assured, Miss Grayson." Maurice Sawyer’s expression was firm and righteous. "Protecting the safety of our citizens is my duty."

Vesper Grayson was momentarily taken aback, then she raised her glass.

"Thank you."

"It’s my duty." Maurice Sawyer, flattered, raised his glass and downed it in one go. "Miss Grayson, please, drink as you wish."

Her tolerance for alcohol was average at best, but by the end of the meal, she had somehow managed to drink a few glasses of strong baijiu. It had been a long time since she’d had such potent liquor. When it was over, Vesper Grayson’s head was swimming, and she felt like she was walking on cotton.

Jared Hawthorne wrapped an arm around her as he helped her into the car, his gaze lowering as he caught the faint scent of alcohol on her.

"Drunk?"

"No..." Vesper Grayson retorted, her voice unknowingly soft and delicate.

’At home, she would sometimes have a few drinks with her father, Milton Grayson, but they always drank from small cups, sipping slowly. This was the first time she had drunk from a large glass like this.’

She leaned against the passenger seat, her cheeks flushed a deep red that spread in a faint pink blush all the way down her neck. Her almond-shaped eyes were half-closed, misty and bewitching.

Jared Hawthorne’s gaze turned dark and intense. "My place?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Okay."

’It wasn’t like they hadn’t slept together before, so she wasn’t worried about being taken advantage of.’

The car glided smoothly through the night, neon signs streaking past the windows before being left behind.

Vesper Grayson leaned against the back of the passenger seat, her head groggy, feeling as though it were wrapped in a soft fog.

She didn’t even notice when the car stopped, only that her body suddenly felt light as a familiar strength lifted her from her seat.

On pure instinct, she clung to his neck, her cheek pressing against his warm, solid chest. The tip of her nose brushed against his collar, catching the faint scent of cedar mixed with tobacco.

She blinked drowsily, her almond eyes fluttering half-open. Her voice was soft and slurred. "Jared...?"

Jared Hawthorne didn’t answer, his steps steady as he carried her down the hallway. The warm light from the wall sconces washed over her flushed profile. She was as soft as molten honey, letting him carry her obediently into the bedroom. She only let out a soft murmur when her body sank into the plush, soft bed, her eyelashes fluttering.

A cool palm pressed against her cheek, and Vesper Grayson instinctively nuzzled into its refreshing touch like a little cat seeking affection.

"I’ll go make you some soup to sober up."

As he said this, he started to pull his hand back to leave.

Vesper Grayson suddenly raised a hand and grabbed his wrist. Her grip wasn’t strong, but it was tight. She tilted her face up, her hazy, drunken eyes gazing into his bottomless dark ones.

"Jared Hawthorne, when you said I was your girlfriend tonight... does that mean you like me a little?"

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