Nathalie Quinlan ca downstairs from her room, and as soon as she reached the stairs, she felt two lines of sight landing squarely on her.
"..." She felt sowhat uncomfortable under their gaze, raised her hand, intending to pull down the brim of a hat before rembering that she hadn’t worn one since she had just taken a bath.
She made a futile gesture and reluctantly lowered her hand, enduring the intense scrutiny as if she hadn’t noticed, and walked into the living room. She opened the fridge, took out a bottle of mineral water, unscrewed the cap, lowered her gaze, and took a casual sip.
Seeing the other two remaining silent.
She slowly screwed the cap back on, walked over to the bar, pulled out a chair and sat down. With her pale hands propping up her chin, she turned her beautiful eyes to them.
Is this a staring contest now?
Amadeus Yancey suddenly locked eyes with her, noticing her lounging there, silent, and touched his nose bridge. He finally straightened up a bit, sitting up. His striking face was unreadable while he asked in a gentle voice, "What would you like to eat tonight?"
Nathalie Quinlan thought he would inquire about the day’s events, but instead he was asking about dinner.
She was briefly taken aback, but quickly resud her usual indifference, saying nonchalantly, "Hot Pot?"
"Which one do you want to eat at?"
Nathalie Quinlan kept her hand under her chin, appeared to ponder deeply, and after a long while, raised her eyebrows, her eyes clear, her voice carrying her typical casualness, "That one we went to last ti was pretty good."
"The one introduced by Govert Griffin?" Amadeus Yancey’s voice was slightly husky and deep, quite pleasant to hear.
Nathalie Quinlan thought for a mont to recall who Govert Griffin was, and humd in agreent.
"OK. I’ll get the owner to save us a spot," Amadeus Yancey said succinctly as he picked up his phone. Reserving a table was such a simple task; he didn’t even need to make a phone call, just sent a ssage to Govert Griffin.
Nathalie Quinlan leaned on her elbow, watching the side of his face as he texted, pursed her lips slightly as if deep in thought.
They had moved straight to discussing what to have for dinner, which made Alfred Garland, who was beside them, very anxious. Alfred Garland attempted several tis to ask Nathalie Quinlan about today’s events.
But with Amadeus not initiating, he didn’t dare to ask.
...
In the living room, while one was sending a ssage to Govert Griffin to reserve a spot, the other was not engaged with her phone either, but she didn’t speak, leaving it unclear what was on her mind.
Eventually, when Amadeus Yancey finished ssaging Govert Griffin, he looked up saying, "Alright, I’ve booked the spot, we can head over anyti."
Nathalie Quinlan grunted and then lazily asked, "Isn’t there anything you want to ask ?"
Such as the argunt she had with Ghania Quinlan today.
Or the leaked news online.
Even Mr. Yancey had called her about it, yet he hadn’t asked her at all.
Nathalie Quinlan always considered herself to be soone who could keep her composure, but this ti she found out she wasn’t particularly good at it, at least in this situation. She felt it necessary to discuss it with him.
But because Amadeus didn’t ask, she found herself at a loss for how to begin.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Amadeus Yancey slowly set down his phone, his handso brows and eyes making his face extrely eye-catching, the very image of trouble.
Who doesn’t like good-looking people?
Blessed with good looks, just a glimpse can be delightful.
Nathalie Quinlan glanced at his face, feeling not so uneasy anymore. She relaxed her shoulders, twisted the cap on the water bottle, and without looking directly into his eyes, she said slowly, "There’s nothing I particularly want or don’t want to say, I just don’t think it’s a matter that needs to be specifically addressed."
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