If You're Going to Sell Yourself, Sell It to Me - Chapter 129

In just a few days, sunset began to fall much earlier. The sky felt higher, and the stars over the sea seemed further away than usual. The evening darkened that much more quickly.

Without a sound, a servant quietly lit the lamp and exited the office. Sitting at his desk since returning to the hotel that afternoon, Locke was still buried in his books.

Since reuniting with Georgiana, his mood had been at its lowest.

The shadows under his eyes matched that mood—deep and heavy with exhaustion.

Since returning to Northwest, he had spent five days attending political gatherings and meetings with Angus, and in the remaining time, tried desperately to catch up on what he lacked.

He couldn’t even spare time for treatment and had to call a doctor in the early morning. He’d also left house hunting entirely to the butler.

There were only two requirements for the house anyway:

It had to be close to where Georgiana lived.

It had to have a well-maintained garden.

As long as those were met, he planned to furnish the rest from scratch.

“My, my, I never thought I’d live to see the day Count Locke Rivern would be buried in a political science textbook.”

Henry, who must’ve slipped in at some point, teased as he glanced at the pile of political books.

“Don’t mess with me. A corner of one of those books could kill you.”

At Locke’s threat, Henry quickly raised his hands to cover his head.

“Besides, you’re my aide now. You’ll have to read all these too.”

Locke closed the book to rest his eyes and gestured at the stack.

“Me too?”

“Of course. How are you going to assist me if you can’t understand what people are saying? An aide should know more than the person they’re assisting. You’re not just a bodyguard, after all.”

“Um… Count, I’ve been thinking I should return home starting today. My parents are aging, and someone needs to mind the family line. Who knows, a long-lost child might appear somewhere…”

Henry joked as he placed his hat back on his head and stepped backward.

“Henry Marker. I’m counting on you.”

At those words, Henry stopped in his tracks and looked back, eyes wide. “What’s with you lately? They say when people change suddenly, they’re close to death—”

“Henry.”

“—which obviously doesn’t apply to you, Count. You’ve walked through death more times than anyone. And you took political science as a required subject in the academy, didn’t you? There’s no need to be so worried.”

“This is about becoming Vice President. I don’t have a network to teach me politics. I can’t afford to know less than others. I need to prepare for policies too.”

Serving as right hand to the leader of a republic wasn’t basic-level knowledge—any child would know that.

Especially as Vice President to the very first President of a new nation.

It wasn’t a position he could enter unprepared, and he didn’t want to appear incompetent in front of Angus.

That would inevitably reach Georgiana too.

So he had poured every spare moment into reading recent publications and issue papers—sacrificing even his time to see her.

“Nothing’s happened to Georgiana, right?”

“Of course not.”

“The restaurant reservation?”

“I heard from the butler—it’s all set.”

They had arranged to meet in two days. That would mark a full week since he’d last seen her.

Locke placed her letter—the one where she’d written “stay well until then”—in the most visible spot on his desk, reading it over and over.

Her neat handwriting, from any angle, exuded Georgiana’s presence.

Each time he read it, his chest tightened, and his longing deepened.

He even felt a childish pang of resentment.

If he couldn’t visit because of his duties, couldn’t she come see him just once?

Then again, knowing how she disliked crowds, perhaps it was a good thing she didn’t put herself through that hassle.

Avoiding her grandfather Angus’s watchful eye wouldn’t have been easy either.

Should I try going over there?

It was already dark, but with luck, he might catch her walking in the garden.

He’d have to climb a wall, but he was confident he wouldn’t get caught.

Without hesitation, Locke began plotting how to sneak in.

“About two hours until dinner, right?”

“Yes, but considering traffic at that time, you’ll need to leave in an hour and a half to reach Senator McKellen’s estate.”

An hour and a half.

That wasn’t quite enough time to visit Georgiana.

But he couldn’t risk being late for the appointment either.

Senator McKellen was the one he was working hardest to win over. As the most trusted member of the Senate, made up of nobles, his opposition would make Locke’s vice presidency impossible.

Of course, thanks to Commander Rossmann’s endorsement, Locke had no real enemies, but like all nobles, the senator’s true intentions were hard to read.

There was only a month left until the election.

Not being the sociable type, Locke’s only option was to attend as many gatherings as possible before then.

If he waited until after the meeting, it would be too late.

Locke sighed heavily.

“If you have something to say to the young lady, shall I deliver a letter? I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

Quick to read the mood, Henry had already pulled out stationery from a nearby drawer.

“But we’re supposed to meet in two days. Wouldn’t that seem obsessive?”

“No way. After going days without a word, she might think you’re being indifferent instead of obsessed.”

“What? Really?”

Locke’s eyes widened in disbelief.

He had held back again and again, worried that pushing for contact before the agreed-upon time might annoy her. But to think it could be misinterpreted like that—he felt completely wronged.

“I don’t think she would, but it’s still good to stay in touch.”

“You could’ve told me that sooner.”

He shot Henry a resentful glare.

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?” Clicking his tongue, Henry shook his head.

“I have to write a letter right now.”

Locke shoved his books aside and bent down to rummage for a quill in the drawer.

That’s when he heard the faint sound of heels clicking—like an illusion. Then came a voice.

“There’s no need.”

“No, there is. What if Georgiana gets disappointed? I should at least let her know it wasn’t that I didn’t care.”

He replied instinctively, then paused.

That wasn’t Henry’s voice just now.

Snapping upright, Locke saw what looked like an illusion before him.

“Georgi…ana?”

He figured he must be hallucinating from thinking about her too much. Or maybe he was just severely sleep-deprived.

Rubbing his eyes in disbelief, he looked toward Henry—who was chuckling beside him.

“She’s standing right next to you. I assume I’m not the only one who can see her, right?”

“Of course not.”

Laughing heartily, Henry exited the office, muttering how the count was getting more entertaining by the day.

Dressed in a neat blouse and skirt with a well-fitted jacket over top, Georgiana took off her gloves while Locke stared at her in a daze.

Even then, it didn’t feel real.

“When should I say hello?”

Only when she spoke did Locke snap back to himself. He jumped up and rushed to her.

“Georgiana! What are you doing here? Is this really you? Is it okay for you to be out at this hour?”

Words tumbled out as he embraced her tightly, almost breathless.

He couldn’t believe she was there, or that she’d come all this way to see him.

“I got permission to step out for a bit. I can’t stay long.”

“You came just to see me?”

He looked down at her with an overwhelmed expression.

Georgiana blushed and averted her eyes.

“A week is too long. I didn’t ruin anything, did I?”

Her lips jutted out slightly as she said it.

“Ruin? You could stay here forever for all I care.”

He wrapped his uninjured arm around her waist and spun her in a circle.

Her tilted hat fell to the floor, but neither of them noticed.

In just a few days, Locke’s lips had become rough—but they instantly claimed hers without hesitation.