Steven started to speak, not by praising Mia Foster’s dance for its beauty, but by gently offering guidance like a close friend.
Perhaps it’s because Westerners are naturally optimistic, or maybe it’s Steven’s nature; Mia curled her lips and tilted her head playfully, "How do you know I’m not happy?"
"I studied psychology before."
Mia raised an eyebrow, noncommittally, said nothing, and as the dance ended, Steven gallantly escorted Mia to the resting area, settled her in a seat, and politely said, "Take a break; I’ll get us so drinks."
Watching Steven’s elegant and courteous back, Mia leaned back in her chair, lost in thought.
Ti flies, and in the blink of an eye, she’s been back working abroad for over three months. Felix Shaw has visited three tis, once each month, as punctual as a period, always at the end of the month. Each visit involves dropping by her place to scrounge a al, and if she doesn’t open the door, he climbs in through the water pipe at the back.
Sighing softly, knowing that the New Year is almost here in China, a ti for family gatherings, he probably won’t be visiting this month.
For so unknown reason, Mia felt a bit down.
Steven returned, carrying a tray in one hand and two glasses of champagne in the other, standing out in the crowd with his tall stature. Unlike a model’s exaggerated contours, his skin was fair, and his blue eyes clearer than a pool.
What caught the eye most was the smile on his face, warm and comforting, with no hint of aggression.
Back in front of Mia, Steven handed over the tray, "I don’t know if you’ll like this." Looking at the food on the tray, Mia couldn’t help but admire the thoughtful stranger; the snacks on the tray were ones she had chosen before. She accepted it and thanked him politely.
Steven sat down next to her, holding a glass of champagne in one hand, watching the people in the venue, sipping lightly, then turned back to look at Mia, who was buried in eating her snacks in small bites.
"Have a sip," Steven offered the other glass of champagne to Mia, hesitated a mont, Mia placed the fork on the tray, said thanks, and accepted the champagne, taking a polite sip. Just as she raised her head, Steven naturally took the champagne back, maybe Westerners are just casual like this.
He smiled at Mia and said, "Miss, I still don’t know your na."
"I’m Mia Foster,"
Mia introduced herself, since the guests at this party are unlikely to be bad people, and even if she didn’t tell him her na, he would find out from friends.
"Hmm, that’s a lovely na," Steven exaggeratedly raised an eyebrow, "At least it’s not difficult to pronounce; otherwise, calling your na would definitely be a cody of errors."
Mia doesn’t have an English na because she represents the Liang family enterprise, so even while abroad, she uses her given na.
Mia smiled and said nothing more, lowering her head to continue eating snacks. Steven held two glasses of champagne, looking at her, asking, "Miss Liang, can I just call you ’Liang’?" Seeing Mia puzzledly looking up, Steven explained with a smile, "Calling you that feels more comfortable, makes our relationship seem closer."
Mia understood that the closeness referred to by the foreign hunk ant a friendly relationship, not any inappropriate intentions, so she curled her lips, "Sure." Anyway, there’s unlikely to be another eting, just a na.
"Liang, now it’s my turn for a self-introduction."
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