"So people, once they cozy up to a few big shots, act like they’re on top of the world, wishing the whole world knew!"
Everyone present knew who she was talking about.
Ghania Quinlan: ...
She really didn’t know; otherwise, she certainly would have said sothing!
Zayn Fisher watched her snow-white delicate face, seeing that even now she could keep her composure, showing a ’calm in the face of honor or disgrace’ deanor, without any trace of arrogant boasting. His voice grew even gentler when he spoke to her, "Ghania, you are still so low-key and unassuming, just like when I first t you."
Ghania Quinlan, under his affectionate gaze, seed to drift back to the past, her cheeks gradually reddening, she gripped the table beneath her tightly, and in a voice as fine as a mosquito’s whine, she spoke softly, "I, I just didn’t find the chance to say it."
She wasn’t actually sure who this Mr. Norton was or why he had co.
She subconsciously assud he was soone Cindy Lawrence had invited, or, like Master Steven, had co of his own accord after seeing the music piece she was awarded for, attracted by her talent.
Everyone looked at her with shock and envy.
Under such gaze, she gradually began to float on air, took a deep breath, put on a smile, and, watched by the crowd, stood up gracefully and walked to the doorway, addressing the young man who was still looking around, "Hello, I am Ghania Quinlan."
She even purposely pinched her voice, speaking so softly it was like blossoming flowers.
She could hardly contain her smile!
In her eyes, shy yet timid, one could barely conceal the pride and self-restraint, as if indeed she had been the one who invited him.
"Please co in and have a seat."
The young man, hearing her words, parroted back, "You are Ghania Quinlan?"
That’s not right.
That’s not the na!
Ghania Quinlan couldn’t hear the voice in his heart and thought he was just uncertain about what she looked like. She smiled faintly, her pride evident as she nodded lightly, "Yes, I am Ghania Quinlan."
Her eyes glanced briefly at the old man, failing to see what was so impressive about this plainly-dressed elder.
That warranted such high regard from soone like Grandma Tucker, to be so excited.
She took a light breath, thinking to herself that no matter who it was, at least with this person here, she could slightly turn the tables today and at least save herself from complete embarrassnt.
Her lips were just beginning to curl into a smile.
Then the young man suddenly enunciated clearly, "But we are looking for Nathalie Quinlan!"
Ghania Quinlan, who was just enjoying the adoration in the eyes of the crowd, gaped in astonishnt.
The slap in the face was too harsh.
She didn’t even react for a mont!
The room was so silent it seed you could hear a drop of water fall.
Too silent!
It was frighteningly silent!
The Quinlan family was livid, completely unable to react.
Had they encountered a ghost today?
"Sorry, we must have entered the wrong private dining room." The young man, oblivious to the awkward atmosphere, politely asked her, "Is there another Miss Quinlan celebrating her birthday here? Do you know which room she’s in?"
Ghania Quinlan’s throat felt like it was being choked.
Her breathing was ragged, as if she were drawing air through a bellows.
At this mont, she wished she could crawl into a hole. She was at a loss for words, her pretty little face turned so red it seed to bleed, and with difficulty, she raised her hand and pointed to the next room.
"Oh, thank you."
As the two left, her legs gave out and she almost collapsed onto the floor.
She had completely lost the courage to turn back.
Just now, when Zayn Fisher asked if the person had been invited by her, she thought the guest really was there for her birthday and indirectly admitted it.
But now...
Ghania Quinlan had never been so utterly humiliated!
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