"What’s going on?"
After a sleepless night, Pedro Langley was in a bit of a bad mood when he suddenly saw a breakfast spread that didn’t appeal to him at all.
Jack Carter’s eyelid twitched, and he lowered his head slightly, quickly saying, "All those breakfasts were bought by Miss Scott. She said she was going out to get breakfast and would bring us so as well. She wasn’t sure about our preferences, so she bought quite a lot. Master Pedro, if they’re not to your liking, I also prepared so other breakfast items..."
As he said this, he heard footsteps and discreetly lifted his eyelids, wanting to gauge Pedro Langley’s expression.
Unexpectedly, he noticed the thin anger on Pedro Langley’s brow dissipate, his expression as composed as always. He walked to the dining table, pulled out a chair, and sat down without any sign of displeasure or annoyance.
Picking up a cup of soy milk, Pedro paused and turned his head to look at the still-standing Jack Carter.
"What are you standing there for? Co and have breakfast."
"Ah, oh!"
Jack Carter finally reacted, walking over with a head full of doubts.
Isn’t this change a bit too fast?
*
The nightfall was approaching.
The sky gradually darkened, the living room unlit, with a phone placed on the coffee table, its screen glowing with dim light.
"Nora Scott, are you even human!" Miguel Smith roared indignantly over the phone, "Not only did you forget my birthday this year, but even when I reminded you at the dining table, you folded a paper airplane out of napkins for ! You even made up a story about hoping I could soar freely! And now you’re shaless enough to ask what birthday gift to give soone else?"
After having breakfast, Nora Scott, who had just woken up, poured herself a glass of water and sat back on the sofa.
"Be more generous." Nora Scott sipped her water and calmly advised.
"Can you have so decency?"
"Things that get in the way are better lost."
"!"
Miguel Smith was so stunned by her shaless attitude that he was left speechless.
Taking a deep breath, Miguel forced himself to calm down, not wanting to argue with her, and asked, "Who are you giving a gift to?"
"Pedro Langley."
His teeth clicked, leaving Miguel in a daze, "Who?"
"..."
Nora didn’t bother to respond to him.
Miguel adjusted his mood and asked in surprise, "Aren’t you really planning to rekindle things with him?"
After drinking half of her glass of water, Nora paused and said, "No, I’m not."
"Then what kind of gift are you giving?"
Too lazy to argue with him on this topic, Nora picked up her phone, crossed her legs, and bluntly asked, "In one sentence, what should I give?"
After a mont of silence, Miguel sighed, compromising, "When it cos to giving gifts, usually you cater to their preferences, give what they love. But with you... Folding a paper plane right in front of the birthday star, you’re not known for putting much thought into things. Just go shopping, buy whatever, like a watch, lighter, belt—those are the most common..."
Miguel patiently gave Nora so suggestions.
Finally, he asked, "Are you alone tonight for New Year’s Eve?"
"Yeah."
Still imrsed in the types of gifts, Nora replied absentmindedly.
He clicked his tongue, ntally lanting ’the miserable encounter of two single dogs,’ then suggested, "Why don’t we——"
Nora chuckled lightly, interrupting him, "Do you want your dad to break your leg?"
Mr. Smith held a grudge against Nora, always disapproving of their association. If Mr. Smith knew that Miguel and Nora were spending New Year’s Eve together, he would inevitably think otherwise. It wouldn’t be impossible for him to break Miguel’s leg then.
"..."
Miguel was montarily silent.
Not in the mood for small talk, Nora said, "Accompany him well for New Year’s, I’m hanging up now."
"Happy New Year."
"Happy New Year."
...
Just after six o’clock, the night outside growing darker.
The phone screen dimd, Nora gazed out the window at the myriad of lights turning on one after another, the warm lights reflecting star-like glimrs in her pitch-black pupils. Her brows furrowed slightly, her thoughts unknown.
After a mont, she stood up, took her phone with her, tidied up, and left.
As soon as the door was opened, the warm yellow light from the corridor pierced into her eyes. She squinted, and in the blurry vision, she seed to catch a glimpse of a familiar figure turning the corner, fleetingly.
Listening carefully, the footsteps faded away.
Pedro Langley?
Suddenly reminded of last night’s awkwardness, Nora pondered briefly and eventually stepped out, following.
This guy is stubborn; one breakfast probably won’t win him over...
Upon reaching the corner, Nora first looked at the elevator, just in ti to see the elevator doors close, catching a glimpse of that figure through the sliver before it fully shut.
Nora raised an eyebrow slightly.
*
The weather dropped in temperature today. Although it hadn’t snowed, the biting cold wind was enough to chill soone to the bone.
Pedro Langley stepped out of the building.
Looking up, he saw the parked sedan outside and the driver standing by the car door, wrapped in a coat, neck shrunk, shivering from the cold.
His gaze turned cold, and he lightly furrowed his brow.
"Master Pedro."
Upon seeing Pedro Langley, the driver imdiately smiled with delight, warmly approaching, his breath visibly puffing in the cold air.
Moving closer, he said, "Professor Loughton specifically asked to pick you up and take you back."
Professor Loughton, naturally referring to Pedro Langley’s own mother, Flora Loughton.
"Where to?" Pedro asked coldly.
The Langley Residence never had the habit of celebrating New Year’s, or even having a family reunion dinner, it was ’co if you want, don’t if you don’t.’ If you ca ho, they’d give you an extra pair of chopsticks, but if you didn’t, they wouldn’t worry about where you were ssing around.
The fact that the driver had been specially asked to pick him up only ever had one reason—
Matchmaking.
"..."
The driver paused, the color on his face fading a bit, his expression quite awkward.
Professor Loughton had instructed him to use ’bringing Pedro ho’ as an excuse to take him to a blind date.
He used to work with Pedro, and for so reason a few days ago, had been sent to the Langley Residence as a driver with a pay raise. When he received the ’task’ to co here, he kept contemplating how unreliable Professor Loughton’s plan was, and indeed, it was imdiately exposed once he spoke.
Pedro’s glare made his scalp tingle, and after a long pause, he braved it, saying, "Master Pedro, the appointnt is at six-thirty, and the girl is still waiting."
"Not going."
The low voice, carrying a chill even colder than the north wind, penetrated the skin to the bone, freezing him to his core.
The driver stood still, a heap of persuading words forced to a halt, shivering in the wind, feeling trapped.
Leaving would make it hard to account for.
Not leaving, and he might not survive...
Just as he was fretting, a teasing voice filled with amusent floated from behind Pedro—
"Going for a matchmaking?"
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