RankNovelChapter 615:
Gavin gave Freda a head-to-toe sweep, then flashed his signature charming smile. “That dress looks fantastic on
you.”
Freda hadn't expected a compliment from Gavin, especially after their last unpleasant encounter. “Thanks, yours
too,” she replied politely, eager to move on.
But fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor. Theo and his date were waltzing further and further away, Freda
trailing behind them like a lost satellite.
The final notes of the melody faded, and Theo escorted his dance partner off the dance floor, hand in hand.
Freda didn’t get a chance to squeeze through the crowd to speak with him.
She saw clearly the tenderness in Theo's gaze as it lingered on his dance partner. Every ounce of gentlemanly
charm was directed at that girl.
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Theo hadn't even glanced at Freda the entire time. Disappointment gnawed at Freda. They'd been a couple, yet
here he was, treating her like a stranger. It felt like their shared history meant nothing to him.
Freda stopped abruptly. She didn’t have the courage to confront Theo. Dejected, she turned and began walking
back, but she was interrupted once more by Gavin.
Gavin was surrounded by several women, their faces flushed, eyes sparkling. They chirped like excited birds, all
vying for his attention. It seemed they all wanted to dance with him.
Freda couldn’t help but scowl. How could anyone fall for such a man? She believed those women were all
clueless, falling for his deceptive gentle facade.
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Convinced of Gavin's duplicity, she watched, waiting for him to make his move. But to her surprise, he politely
dismissed all the ladies. He didn’t agree to dance with any of them. Reluctantly, the women dispersed, despite
their unwillingness to accept rejection.
Freda’s eyes widened. This wasn’t playing out as expected. She quickly reassured herself that this must be part
of Gavin's gand speculated he might have another hidden agenda, pretending to be a celibate gentleman.
Lost in her self-constructed narrative, she didn’t notice Gavin approaching. He took a slow sip of wine, studying
her. He found her face a kaleidoscope of emotions, shifting with each passing second. He couldn't decipher her
thoughts, but his gut told him they weren't pleasant.
“What's on your mind? You look like you're wrestling with a dilemma,” he said kindly.
Freda jumped, glancing around nervously. Regaining her composure, she sidled up to him, feigning curiosity.
“How’d you get in? Did your friend bring you in?”
Gavin was confused. “I cwith an invitation,” he explained. “Why do you ask?”
Freda scrutinized him. “But you're just a violinist. Who gives an invitation to a violinist? Are you sure it was
addressed to you?”
Understanding dawned on Gavin. He took another measured sip of his drink. “Miss Jimenez,” he began, “why the
prejudice against artists? Or is it justyou have a problem with?”
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Freda, caught off guard, stammered, “No, that’s not it! | was just... curious. Can someone like you attend these
events?”
Gavin chuckled. “Excusefor a moment. I'll be right back.”
Freda, at a loose end, waited patiently to see what he'd do next. A few minutes later, she saw him returning, not
towards her, but weaving through the crowd. He reached the center of the dance floor, violin in hand.
The dance floor was less crowded now because the previous song had ended. Gavin stood poised in the center,
raising his violin. Freda drifted closer, watching him from the edge.
Was this skind of self-important performance? A fancy venue already had an orchestra, yet he felt the need
to be the center of attention.
Freda wasn’t about to stop Gavin, though. In fact, she rather enjoyed the idea of him making a fool of himself.
The resident orchestra was playing a slow waltz, completely different from the piece Gavin envisioned. Out of
respect, he decided to wait until their section finished before launching into his own melody.
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