Chapter 291

"Y-You're serious?"

It wasn't that Evelyn doubted her own abilities.

But the weight of the moment was crushing. So crushing that its echoes would linger far longer than she anticipated.

Vanessa had always been like this, even in the beginning. It was impossible to predict how much worse she could get. Right now, her mood was undeniably foul.

Evelyn had no desire to argue, so she simply said, "Fine, since you're done, pack up and go. It's getting late."

"I'll take her home," Isabella offered.

They boarded the bus together.

The moment they stepped inside, the driver called out without hesitation, "Ladies, you sure went heavy on the perfume today, huh?"

Isabella laughed awkwardly, cheeks flushing.

As a perfumer, carrying traces of various scents was inevitable—and not all of them pleasant.

Perfume ingredients were complex, and the creation process even more so.

They were used to drawing odd looks in public, but the overpowering, peculiar aroma clinging to them today was something else entirely.

Even Isabella, who was accustomed to drowning in fragrance notes and had built up a tolerance to all kinds of smells, found it unbearable—let alone strangers.

Vanessa was lost in thought, silent.

The second she took her seat, she turned to stare out the window. No one could guess what was on her mind.

The driver, however, was a chatterbox.

Once he started talking, there was no stopping him.

He steered with one hand and rolled down the window with the other. "Hope you don't mind—just need some fresh air circulating."

Isabella shook her head, forcing a polite smile.

A little night breeze would be nice.

"So, what brand is that perfume? Strong stuff," the driver remarked as he navigated the streets.

"Just something generic," Isabella joked.

The driver looked enlightened.

"No wonder it's so intense. With perfumes, strong doesn't always mean better. Sometimes, the subtlest scents are the most addictive—the kind you barely notice."

"Once, a woman got on my bus, and I didn't smell a thing. But when she left? The whole bus carried her fragrance. No idea what she was wearing, but it had to be high-end."

"Why does it have to be high-end?" Vanessa suddenly cut in, her voice sharp.

Both Isabella and the driver flicked their gazes toward her, studying her from the corners of their eyes.

"Common sense," the driver said with a shrug. "Only luxury perfumes last that long. And that one? Had to be an international brand."

"I'm saving up. Once I've got enough, I'm buying my wife a bottle. Shame I never found out what it was." He sighed dramatically.

Vanessa didn't respond.

Only when she stepped off the bus, just before the doors closed, did she turn back and say coolly, "International brands aren't always the best."

The driver blinked, momentarily speechless.

But the doors were already shutting, and he simply shook his head, assuming she was just making excuses.