Your hijab warms me

Chapter 3 Wait, who should interview who?

"But if you work really hard, what do you do to relax?"

"Still?" He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. I stopped breathing. He's really handsome. There shouldn't be anything this handsome.

"Hmmmm, to 'relax', as you say, I sail, I fly, I enjoy various physical pursuits."

He shifted in his chair.

"I'm a very rich man, Miss Anastasya, and I have an elegant and interesting hobby, even though it has to take a lot of money, for me it doesn't matter"

I glanced quickly at Rahma's question, wanting to get off this topic. Her taste was a little nauseous because she was too arrogant even though she had perfect good looks. But it is all God's care, and there is nothing we can be proud of in this world.

"Allah does not like those who are proud. ” (QS Luqman :18). The Prophet also said that means, “Brag is to reject the truth and to belittle man.” (Moslem HR).

"You invest in manufacturing. Why, are you focused on this field ?" I asked. Why is he making me so uncomfortable?

"I like to build things. I want to know how something works: what makes something move, how to build and deconstruct. I like the boat. What do I have to say again?"

"It sounds like your heart is speaking rather than logic and facts."

His mouth was gaping, and he looked at me with a judging look.

"Maybe. Although there are people who say I have no heart."

"Why do they say that?"

"Because they don't know me very well." His lips curved up forming a wry smile.

"Will your friends say you're easy to get to know?"

And I regretted that question the moment I said it. It wasn't on Rahma's list of questions.

"I'm a very secretive person, Miss Anastasya. I try hard to protect my privacy. I rarely give interviews," he fell silent.

"Why did you agree to this interview?"

"Because I am a benefactor of the University, and for all intents and purposes, I cannot let go of Miss Susilawati. He urged and urged my working people, and I admired that kind of tenacity."

I know how tenacious Rahma is. That's why I'm sitting here wriggling uncomfortably under his sharp gaze, when I should be studying for the exam.

"You also invest in agricultural technology. Why are you interested in this field?"

"We can't eat money, Miss Anastasya, and there are too many people on the planet who don't eat enough."

"It sounds very *philantropical. Is this something you really like? Feed the poor of the world?"

*philanthropy is the behavior of people who love their neighbors by having humanitarian value so that they can donate money, time, and energy to help others.

He shrugged, very uncommitted.

"It's shrewd business" he whispered, though I thought he was dishonest.

"It makes no sense to feed the world's poor. Without seeing the financial gain of this, only the virtue of the ideal."

I glanced at the next question, confused by his attitude.

"Do you have a philosophy If so, what is it?"

"I don't have that philosophy. Maybe Carnegie's guideline. I was very independent, and driven. I like to control myself and the people around me."

*A man who gains the ability to fully master his own mind can master whatever it is rightfully his own.

"So you want to have something?" He was too happy to control people.

"I want to deserve it, but yeah, the point is, I have."

"You sound like the end consumer."

"I."

He smiled, but the smile did not touch his eyes. Again this is against someone wanting to feed the world, so I can't stop thinking that we're talking about something else, but I'm really confused what it is. I swallowed spit.

"You're adopted. How far do you think it's shaped you?"

Ah, this is personal. I looked at him, hoping he wasn't offended. Eyebrows wrinkling.

"I have no way of knowing."

My interest was disturbed.

"How old were you when you were adopted?"

"That's a matter of public record, Miss Anastasya." Strict tone. I blushed, again. Nonsense, with this curiosity.

Yes of course, if I knew I was doing this interview, I would do some research first.

I continued quickly.

"You have to sacrifice family life for your work."

"That's not a question." He's brief.

"Sorry." I squirm, and he makes me feel like an information-hungry kid. I tried again.

"Do you have to sacrifice family life for your work?"

"I have a family. I have a brother and sister and two loving parents. I'm not interested in expanding my family any more than that."

"Are you g*y, Mr Cafrio?"

He took a sharp breath, and I felt horrified, ashamed. It's nonsense. Why don't I use some sort of filter before I read it straight away? How can I tell him I'm just reading a question?

This Rahma trapped me, she couldn't stem her curiosity!

"No Gisele, I don't." He raised his eyebrows, a cold gleam in his eyes. He doesn't look happy.

"sorry. It's um. It's written here." This is the first time he has ever mentioned my name. My heartbeat quickened, and my cheeks heated up again. Nervously, I tidied up my black veil pulling it back and blowing the top of my veil.

He tilted his head to one side.

"This isn't your own question?"

Blood is flowing from my head. Oh naw. Formal language suddenly becomes informal

"Err. Rahma, I mean Miss Susilawati, she's the one who compiled her questions I just follow her list of questions."

"Are you a co-worker at the student association (HIMA) as well?" I have nothing to do with HIMA. It's his extracurricular activities, not mine. My face suddenly felt burning.

"No. He's my roommate."

She rubbed her chin quietly, her blue eyes judging me.

"Are you volunteering for this interview?" he asked, his voice very calm.

Wait, who's supposed to interview who? His eyes were burning at me, and I had to answer honestly.

"I was persuaded by him. He's not well now." My voice is weak and sorry.

"That explains a lot."

There was a knock on the door, and a blonde woman walked into her study.

" Mister Cafrio, forgive me for interrupting, but your next meeting is two minutes away."

"We're not finished here, Deborah. Please cancel my next meeting."

Deborah hesitated. He looks lost. He turned his head slowly to face her and raised his eyebrows. He's flushed, bright pink. Oh great. It's not just me who's made to blush from facing it.

"Alright, Mr. Cafrio," he murmured, then came out. He frowned, and turned his attention back to me.