I Returned to the Day He Brought His First Love Home-Chapter 75: Stakeout

"I’m so jealous of those people in the garment workshop. They’re still working overtime right now. I heard last month they made an extra eight dollars just from overtime pay. That’s eight whole dollars!"

"Tell me about it. Why didn’t I ever learn to sew? If I had, I could be in there too, making over fifty a month. It’s so frustrating."

"What about that clothing design competition? Did any of you try out for it?"

"Me? I wouldn’t know the first thing about it. But I did hear a woman from the workshop gave it a shot. She submitted a dozen or so design sketches, and one got accepted. She got a ten-dollar bonus for it last month."

"No way? That’s a shame. I can’t design anything."

It was quitting time at the textile factory.

Lately, orders had increased significantly, so the workshops were running overtime every day. The earliest anyone got off was eight in the evening.

Groups of women streamed out of the textile factory, chattering in twos and threes about the latest hot topic at the plant.

Their faces were a mixture of envy and smiles.

Gordon Lynch hid in the shadows, watching the workers file out one by one, but he didn’t see any sign of Grace Winslow.

He managed to remain patient, not making a sound.

The late July air was already hot and thick. The mosquitoes in the tall grass were especially vicious, and within moments, they had covered him in welts.

Meanwhile, Grace Winslow, the object of his obsession, had long since finished work and returned to her dorm.

The finance department’s workload had also been heavy recently.

However, thanks to the new accounting method Grace Winslow had taught them, their workload had increased without requiring any overtime. In fact, they still got to leave on time every day.

Oscar Osborne had already told Grace Winslow that their latest batch of clothing was selling exceptionally well overseas.

Not only were the styles refreshingly new, but they were also inexpensive.

The first batch of five thousand pieces had sold out long ago.

Now, the second batch of fifteen thousand pieces was ready to be packed and shipped as soon as production was complete.

Their overseas partners had reached out to the Department of Commerce with a request for a wider selection of styles.

The Department of Commerce had already agreed.

Oscar Osborne had no choice but to ask Grace Winslow for her help in creating more attractive styles, hoping to establish a long-term partnership.

Because the clothes made from scrap fabric had all sold, and sold well at that, the textile factory had already received a commendation. By the end of the year, it was very likely to win the "Model Unit" award.

As the factory director, he was certain to reap significant benefits as well.

And so, Grace Winslow was currently pulling a late night, rushing to help draw more design sketches.

Gordon Lynch waited outside the textile factory for three days straight, but he never saw Grace Winslow.

He did, however, occasionally hear people mention her name.

’Because of her, I’m like a stray dog, forced to hide and constantly worry about being caught. Meanwhile, she’s thriving inside that factory.’ The thought of it made him grit his teeth in hatred.

After three days, his patience finally ran out.

Gordon Lynch himself had a simple, honest-looking face. Although a wanted notice had been issued for him, many people didn’t know what he looked like.

He brazenly walked right up to the textile factory gate.

It was now evening, and the sky was growing dark.

The security guard at the gate glanced at him and stopped him. "Who are you? What’s your business here?"

"Hello, sir. I’m here to see Grace Winslow, Accountant Winslow from your factory. I’m the suitor her brother and sister-in-law introduced me as. She’s been so busy with work lately that we haven’t seen each other in a while. I... well, I missed her, so I came to the factory to see if I could catch her." The lies rolled off Gordon Lynch’s tongue.

The old guard stared at him, sizing him up for a moment, skeptical. "Accountant Winslow’s suitor? I haven’t heard anything about her dating someone."

"We were set up when she was home on leave not too long ago. We’ve only met once, but things are already settled. We’re planning to get married soon." As Gordon Lynch spoke, he slipped a pack of cigarettes into the old guard’s hand.

Seeing that he knew how to play the game, the old guard didn’t ask any more questions. "Sign the register. Accountant Winslow isn’t off work yet. Don’t wander around the factory, you hear? Find her and then leave right away."

Gordon Lynch mumbled his agreement, scribbled a random name in the logbook, and entered the textile factory with his head down.