Sporting a custom slim-fit white shirt from Ralph Lauren, Gael looked incredibly delectable. The long sleeves hugged his upper arms, rightfully showcasing his triceps. He's wearing the watch that Angela gave him—he hadn't really taken it off unless he took a shower and went to bed. Even then, he kept the watch on his nightstand most of the time. On his white polo shirt was a white standing horse logo, which she knew was exclusive to RL's Purple Label collection.

Gael's fashion sense was top-notch. He appeared stylish in whatever clothing he wore. Even now that he's wearing luxury clothing yet still looking casual, his confidence with how he carried himself completed his whole outfit. Who wouldn't want to stand next to this man? Anyone would appear and feel like a million bucks from just being in his presence.

'Calm down, Angela. Now, wipe your drool,' said her subconscious mind, making her subtly touch her lips with the back of her hand in case she really was drooling. She wasn't.

"You look surprised," Gael commented at her stunned expression.

Blinking, Angela averted her gaze and nodded at Oliver when he glanced her way, gesturing the tumbler in her hand and reminding him of his coffee.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she replied.

"I thought I was clear last night when I told you I wanted to be here."

She shrugged. "I told myself to lower my expectations."

He pursed his lips as he nodded, understanding why she had to do so. It was his fault why she couldn't fully trust him anymore. The things he did, does, and would do would still probably hurt her no matter how careful he tries to be. But he still wanted to win her back. No matter what it takes.

"I didn't think I'd actually get the color right," he said in a low voice so only the two of them could hear as he inched closer.

"What?" Angela arched a brow, staring at him like she couldn't believe he was really there. His intoxicating scent permeated her nose, and that was all it took for her to believe.

He nodded at her outfit. "You said you wanted to match, but you didn't tell me what color. So I just went with my gut."

Oliver came closer to get his tumbler from her hand, and she waited until he left before she answered Gael. "I just said that to spite Lyra. Didn't mean it."

"Ah. Too bad. I quite like it that we match."

She bit her tongue, stopping herself from responding that she did too. Instead, she changed the subject, "So… What about your flight?"

"I postponed it." He retrieved a white handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over to her, saying, "You have something on your top."

Angela looked down at her chest and remembered the coffee stain on it. She clicked her tongue, furrowing her brows at the sight of it. "It's coffee. Oliver stopped the car abruptly while I was drinking."

"I'll give you my jacket—"

"All right. It's time, boys. Shall we?" Charlie Su rose from his seat and gestured for the others to follow him out on the course.

Gael and Angela turned their heads in unison, watching as the men walked out of the clubhouse. At the same time, her aunts called her to join them at the corner table.

"You're not playing?" he asked.

She shook her head, folding her arms under her chest. "This is more like a men's tradition. The women in the family stay behind and sip tea with their pinky finger in the air as they talk about their husbands."

He briefly glanced at her aunts. "Are you gonna talk about me?" he probed as he shifted his gaze back at her.

'Fudge me.' Angela had to pinch her thigh to stop herself from smiling. She could only look down at her tumbler, but not before seeing the sly smirk on his face. "You should go. They're waiting for you."

"I was hoping you could watch me play." Gael sighed, reaching for the black jacket that he draped over the back of his chair and then giving it to her. "Here."

She received it without thinking much. "I didn't know you played golf."

"I'm not bad at it. Is that coffee?" He nodded at the tumbler in her hand.

Glancing at it, she readily handed it over to him. "Yeah. Do you want it? It's sweet, though."

"You don't mind? I don't like tea. I only drank a fourth of it because your uncle was staring at me." He rolled his neck from side to side as if to relieve his shoulders from the tension. Taking a sip of the hot drink, he looked at her over the tumbler.

"Too sweet?"

He shook his head. "Tastes just like you." Then he winked. "Catch you later, Angel."

Angela swallowed. Her heart skipped a beat, watching him walk away. He joined her family by the golf carts that were parked outside. This was such a bizarre morning for her. She didn't particularly enjoy the yearly tradition, but today didn't seem to be so bad. Or it was probably only because Gael was here.

She would have loved to watch him play too, but the women wouldn't go to the course until much later. Waiting and sitting in the cart for hours wasn't too fun for them, and she agreed. But this year was different. Gael playing golf with her family made her curious. What were they going to talk about? How would they think of him? Would her father or Uncle Wilfred grill him with questions to scare him off? Was he even scared of something?

Angela clenched her empty hand only to realize she'd been holding it up mid-air as if she was still carrying her tumbler. She lowered it. "Great. Now I don't have coffee." A long sigh came out of her as she turned on her heel and joined her aunts at the table.

"Darling, you look awful. Did you sleep at all?" Aunt Linda greeted as she gave her a mandatory kiss on the cheek. "And what's that brown thing on your sweater? You should have it cleaned."

Way to tell her she looked terrible, just as she felt good after her exchange with Gael. "Good morning, Aunt Linda. You look lovely, as usual. Is that a new brooch?" She smiled.

'Who the heck wears a brooch to a golf course? Was that a thing?' she thought.

"Why, thank you. You noticed! It is indeed. I got it from an auction last week—a very interesting piece…" Aunt Linda then proceeded to tell the whole group about how she got it at an affordable price. And by affordable—it meant thousands.

Whatever. As long as her aunt's attention was no longer on her. Angela ordered her food and then took the seat by the window, where she could still see Gael and the others chatting outside. He stood next to her father, sipping the coffee in a pink tumbler that he got from her. How cute.

She chuckled to herself when she saw the print, only remembering what was written on it. He cocked a brow at her, questioning her laugh. But she shook her head, not wanting to tell him.

Gael whipped out his phone, tapping the screen quickly and then nodding at her to check her phone. Not a second later, her phone buzzed.

[ Gael: What is it? ]

Angela contemplated for a second before she texted him back to check the tumbler's design. After reading her text, he then extended the travel mug away from him and turned it to see what she was talking about. A crease formed between his brows as he read the text in gold print:

[ IF IT REQUIRES PANTS OR A BRA, IT'S NOT HAPPENING TODAY. ]

Gael's expression turned from contemplative to suggestive, a cheeky grin dancing on his lips as he looked at her. Only then did she realize that he must have thought she was hinting.

'Oh, my god!'

She only meant to laugh at how cutesy he looked with the pink mug and how funny the print was! He should be embarrassed—not grinning! What the fudge!

He sent her another text.

[ Gael: Later. ]

Angela looked up, and the men were leaving in their golf carts. Her heart began to race, and she was panicking. What did he mean? Later as in "Bye. See you later", or later as in "it's happening later"?

She needed an answer.

Lyra took the seat next to her just as the waiter served Angela's french toast. "That's your breakfast? You do know that's a lot of calories, don't you? I don't think you should eat that," she said in a catty voice while giving her a once-over, then sipping her green tea.

Almost instantly, Angela's mood became testy. With a smile on her face, she said, "I work out a lot so that I can eat any food I want."

Slicing a huge piece of the toast, she smothered it with maple syrup and shoved it into her mouth while holding her cousin's gaze. Lyra gulped as Angela moaned, relishing the fluffy goodness. She knew all about her cousin's failed attempts at exercising and yoyo dieting. How fun was it to piss her off? Very.

Dropping her smile, she warned, "Don't test me today, Lyra. I had a very bad morning."