Chapter 3
The mountain road curved endlessly, the scenery unfolding like a painting. I felt so relaxed that I even started humming.
But the moment we rounded a bend and saw rows of strawberry greenhouses glowing red in the distance, my smile froze.
At the entrance of one greenhouse, a familiar figure was crouched with his back to us, moving with practiced ease as he worked.
A plain white T-shirt, cargo pants. Even in that posture, his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and sharp profile made him impossible to miss.
My heartbeat stuttered.
Louie spotted him too. "Wait, isn't that Deangelo? What's he doing here?"
It felt like lightning struck my brain.
Why was he here?
Didn't Alana say there wouldn't be any nemesis-level encounters? Did an ex-boyfriend qualify as the ultimate boss enemy?
As if he'd heard Louie, the man stood up, brushed off his hands, and turned around.
It was none other than Deangelo.
He looked just as stunned. His eyes widened slightly, and when they landed on me, they lingered a little too long.
I was screwed, panic rising in my chest.
Then his thoughts poured straight into my head.
[Amber? What is she doing here? Didn't she always hate the countryside? And that white dress... does she think she's Snow White?]
[She looks thinner. And pale. Did she get scolded last night and lose sleep? Serves her right.]
[Still... that dress actually suits her. Her waist looks good.]
[Why is she staring at me like that? Is she checking me out? Figures. Women.]
I was speechless.
I forced my expression blank, deliberately turned away, and inhaled slowly.
It was just strawberry picking. If I stayed calm, the awkwardness would be on them, not me.
Louie rushed over enthusiastically. "Deangelo! What a coincidence. Are you filming here too?"
Deangelo finally pulled his gaze away from me, his face returning to its usual cool detachment. "Yeah. I'm part of another show."
Wait, another show?
Only then did I notice the different camera crew nearby, their logos completely unfamiliar.
So our teams were basically filming on opposite sides of the same mountain?
Was this some kind of reality-show multiverse crossover?
While I was silently complaining, Deangelo's eyes drifted back to me.
[Another show? She looks genuinely surprised. Like she didn't know I was here? Yeah right. She must've come on purpose.]
Seriously, I couldn't be with this guy.
With a brain like his, he was wasting his talent by not writing webnovels.
I suppressed my urge to roll my eyes, put on a polite smile, and walked forward. "Mr. Curry. It's been a while."
I made sure my tone was distant, formal, and unmistakably professional.
Deangelo lifted an eyebrow, a faint, teasing smile touching his lips.
But his thoughts were dripping with sarcasm.
[Mr. Curry? Wow. Didn't hear that tone when you were trash-talking me on TV yesterday.]
[She's wearing light makeup today. Looks better than at the station. Her eyes are still bright.]
[Forget it. None of this is my business anymore.]
Listening to his mental whiplash felt like sneaking into someone's diary.
Uncomfortable didn't even begin to cover it.
"You here to pick strawberries?" Deangelo asked, gesturing toward the greenhouse.
"Yep!" Louie replied eagerly. "We can trade them for ingredients."
"Then let's work together," Deangelo said casually, already heading inside.
His thoughts followed instantly.
[No way I'm letting her stay alone with that pretty boy. He's clearly up to no good. His eyes are glued to Amber.]
I looked at Louie's innocent face, then listened to Deangelo's jealous rant, my temples throbbing.
He was barely twenty. Still a kid.
Inside, the greenhouse was warm and humid, filled with the earthy sweetness of soil and ripe strawberries.
Red berries peeked out between lush green leaves.
Louie plunged into picking with childlike enthusiasm.
I deliberately chose the farthest corner from Deangelo and focused on my basket. My strategy was simple: distance, silence, and survival.
Unfortunately, I underestimated his talent for chaos.
I had barely collected a handful when he strolled over, bucket in hand, acting completely at home.
He nodded toward a spot behind me. "The strawberries over there are bigger."
His thoughts were loud and clear.
[Seriously, she's still picking the tiniest strawberries. After all this time, she hasn't changed at all. Back when I took her strawberry picking, she'd always leave the best ones for me and eat the weird-looking ones herself.]
[Is she really trying to save the good ones for me again? We're not even together anymore, what's she thinking?]
[Nope, I'd better keep an eye on her. Can't let her hand over all the best strawberries to that pretty boy.]