Chapter 378: The Ugly Duckling

Seeing Amina fall silent, the beautician gave her a meaningful look.

"You’re so young, how can you not know how to take care of yourself? People say a woman’s hands are her second face. Yours look like they belong to a forty- or fifty-year-old. You’ll be a laughingstock when you go out."

"Even though you have a connection with Mrs. Walton, you still need to focus on investing in yourself. In this circle, beauty is what matters most. If a woman doesn’t have a good family background, only a great body and a beautiful face can let her live a good life. But it has to be a top-tier body and top-tier beauty."

"Those rich young masters see countless beautiful women every day. If you’re not top-tier gorgeous, you won’t even catch their eye. And even if you are, at most you’ll be their plaything for a while; you’ll never actually marry them. The great families only marry for alliances, to consolidate their positions and exchange resources. True love doesn’t exist in high society. Those TV dramas where the rich heir falls for a Cinderella are all fake, just fantasies cooked up by ugly, poor women like us. Just think about it, why would a handsome, rich man pick a woman like us? To embarrass himself? He’d be ridiculed by everyone in his circle just for taking us out."

Amina had never thought about marrying Zeke Walton, whether he was rich or poor. She hadn’t even thought about dating him.

She just felt happy and comfortable being with him. She hadn’t thought about anything beyond that.

But after what the beautician said, the thought of Mrs. Walton’s luxury car and her beautiful, delicate face filled Amina with a wave of panic.

’Why didn’t Zeke Walton tell me sooner that his family was so rich?’

’Why didn’t he tell me there were so many conditions to being his friend?’

’If he had told me earlier, I wouldn’t have considered him such a good friend.’

Amina knew deep down that she couldn’t—and didn’t deserve to—be friends with people from high society.

In that moment, she saw her future with Zeke Walton.

She was so sad. She didn’t want to be separated from Zeke Walton.

Veridia was so big, and he was her only friend. What would she do without him?

After the spa treatment ended amidst a flurry of troubled thoughts, Mrs. Walton took Amina to lunch.

She chose a French restaurant.

The car stopped at the restaurant entrance. Looking at the high-end, grandiose sign and the brilliant lights shining from within, Amina lost all desire to go inside.

She had seen on TV that men who ate at Western restaurants were always dapper, dressed in suits and leather shoes, while women needed to be in dresses and evening gowns.

Someone like her, dirty and disheveled and still in her delivery driver’s uniform, probably wouldn’t even be allowed in the door.

"Auntie, can we... maybe not eat here?"

The driver opened the door for Mrs. Walton. Just as she was about to get out, Amina spoke up, her face flushing red.

Mrs. Walton loved that expression on her. It showed that the girl knew her place, that she had a sense of shame—so much better than her two older brothers.

However, she felt no pity for her.

The whole reason she brought her to a spa and then to this restaurant was to put her in her place, to make her keenly aware of the gap between her and Zeke Walton, and to make her back off.

This was only the beginning.

"Why not, sweetie? Auntie already made reservations. This restaurant is very famous, and it’s usually hard to get a table. You’ve surely never been... I don’t mean anything by it, I just wanted you to experience something I enjoy. We’re already here, so let’s go."

’She’s already made reservations, and she’s my elder. Wouldn’t it be a huge disappointment if I refused? It would be so disrespectful.’

Amina could only follow awkwardly behind Mrs. Walton to the restaurant entrance.

Sure enough, a waiter politely informed her that they had a dress code. Amina was stopped at the door.

"We’re together."

Mrs. Walton had taken a few steps inside. Noticing Amina hadn’t followed, she walked back, beaming.

"Your boss is a friend of mine. No need for so many rules. Let her in."

The waiter looked conflicted. He was just an employee, following the rules.

He gave Mrs. Walton a pleading look, and she understood immediately, patting his arm.

"Alright, alright. I won’t make things difficult for you. I’ll just give your boss a call."

The call connected quickly. She spoke into the phone, her voice full of charm.

"Yvonne, it’s Auntie. Where are you now? I’m at the entrance of your restaurant on Riverbend Road. I brought a friend for lunch, but her attire is a little... out of line with the dress code... Yes, yes, that’s right... No, no, it just shows he’s diligent. You can’t be unreasonable and scold him for this... Okay, okay, we’ll head in first then. See you in a bit."

After she hung up, the waiter, face full of embarrassment, made a gesture for them to enter.

Mrs. Walton held her head high, leading Amina to her reserved table with an air of noble elegance.

A waiter came to the table and presented an English menu and a French menu. Mrs. Walton took the French one and handed the English one to Amina.

"Here, you can look at this. Order whatever you want. I studied French, so I’ll read the French menu."

Amina took the heavy, exquisite menu—it looked like a classic literary tome. She took one look inside and was dumbfounded.

She had graduated from high school, after all, but she could barely understand a word of it.

She couldn’t read the names, but she could read the prices.

Although Amina knew Zeke Walton’s family was incredibly wealthy, she still felt too embarrassed to order anything too expensive, so she picked two of the relatively cheaper items.

She quickly handed the menu back to the waiter.

Mrs. Walton ordered several dishes, and the waiter served them coffee.

Just as the two were about to chat, an exuberant figure suddenly drifted over and sat down next to Mrs. Walton.

"Auntie! Long time no see! What brings you to my humble little place for a meal? Oh, I’ve missed you to death! Come here and give me a hug."

"Yvonne? It really has been a while. Auntie missed you too, that’s why I came to see you! Good girl, come here, come here. Let Auntie see, have you gotten even prettier? Oh my, look at this little face, so youthful and delicate. So beautiful, I could just die."

The girl was wearing a red slip dress, her long, brown hair styled in big waves. Although a bit too revealing for the season, the look suited her confidence, sexiness, and flamboyance.

She wore exquisite makeup. While her features might not be enough to topple cities, she was undeniably beautiful.

After a long, warm chat while hugging Mrs. Walton, she finally looked at the person sitting opposite them.

"So this is your friend? Auntie, your taste in friends is getting more and more... interesting."

’What she means is my taste is getting less selective,’ Amina understood, and she instantly felt even more awkward.

Mrs. Walton smiled and made the introduction.

"Yes, this is my friend. Her name is Amina; she’s from an ethnic minority. It’s her first time eating Western food... isn’t that right, Amina? Is this your first time? I was afraid she’d feel restricted, so I brought her to your place. You have to help me treat her well."

"Of course! Any friend of Auntie’s is a friend of mine. Today’s meal is on me."

With that, the girl extended her hand to Amina.

"I’m Yvonne Thorne. Hello."

At that moment, Amina completely understood what the beautician meant when she said a woman’s hands are her second face.