Celine Tucker had no knowledge of those things at their school, humd a response, and exited the elevator, planning to head back first and talk later.
As Caryn Zachmann followed her, walking along, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure from the corner of her eye.
"Mr. Norton?"
They all thought that Shawn Norton, having hurried off so hastily, would have definitely left the Imperial Hotel, yet there they were, encountering him in the lobby on the first floor.
However, Shawn Norton was facing away from them and walked directly toward the left side of the corridor.
"Where does that lead?" she asked, curious.
Celine had been here a few tis and her facial expression beca even stranger: "That’s the direction of the Imperial Hotel’s restaurant. What’s Mr. Norton doing going to the restaurant? To eat?"
They had just sincerely invited him to dine with them, and he didn’t give them the face to accept.
After refusing their invitation, he headed straight for the restaurant.
This...
Was like a face slap.
*
Inside the Imperial Hotel’s restaurant.
Nathalie Quinlan had almost finished eating, wiped her mouth, and leaned back in her chair to rest.
Having slept and eaten, she felt not more awake but rather sleepier, with heavy eyelids. She lazily placed her hand on the table, playing with her phone.
Most of the dishes on the table were almost done, and amid a spread of mild Santhoma dishes, there was one out-of-place dish of spicy chicken, fiery red peppers set against the vibrant dish making it look appetizing.
Alfred Garland placed his chopsticks down with satisfaction, his mouth swollen from the spice, leaned back in his chair feeling content, and said in astonishnt, "I didn’t expect the chef here at the Imperial could make spicy chicken, and it’s quite tasty too. Amadeus, how did you know, I an, how did you know one could order spicy chicken here?"
The dish had been ordered by Amadeus Yancey, who had previously signaled the waiter and whispered the instruction to add a hot and spicy dish.
Amadeus Yancey hadn’t touched the spicy chicken, unlike Alfred’s disheveled state, and elegantly dabbed the corners of his lips with a napkin. His narrow eyes were deep and inscrutable as he spoke, "I’ve been here with Javier Bonette before, and he made a fuss about having it."
"Ah, Mr. Bonette," Alfred obviously knew the person and revealed an expression of sudden realization, thoughtfully saying, "If it’s Mr. Bonette, then it’s not surprising at all. He’s always liked to explore food; he’s the only one who would think to have a Santhoma chef make hot and spicy dishes."
Amadeus Yancey was noncommittal. Looking down, he noticed Nathalie Quinlan still playing with her phone, and he poured her another cup of tea. The pure white teacup with tea leaves floating up and down, with gentle wisps of steam carrying the aroma of the tea, made it clear that the Imperial used only top-quality tea.
After pouring Nathalie a cup of tea, he asked, "What’s your plan for after this? Going back to rest, or...?"
Nathalie had just received a ssage from Shawn Norton informing her he had finished the eting and was on his way. She looked up, her lips cold and compressed, her gaze wild as she picked up her bag and said, "I am eting soone, so I won’t be joining you."
"Ms. Quinlan, you’re not coming with us?" Alfred unconsciously looked towards the man across from him.
That wouldn’t do.
Amadeus had specially accompanied Ms. Quinlan back for her exams; they couldn’t possibly part ways right after getting off the airplane.
"It’s your first ti in Beijing and we’re not comfortable with you being out on your own," he reflected with a hint of concern.
Nathalie didn’t understand what he was uneasy about and archly raised an eyebrow, "Is Beijing’s public security not good?"
Alfred was montarily speechless and touched his nose, "It’s not that the security is bad, Beijing actually has quite good security, I just worry about you getting lost."
Nathalie’s eyes, dark as lacquer, carried a casual indifference, "There are taxis everywhere outside, I think the chances of getting lost are quite slim."
Alfred: ...
What to do? He couldn’t very well just co out and admit that they ca back to Beijing just to accompany her for her exams and didn’t want to be apart from her.
Wouldn’t that be disclosing Amadeus’s secret if he said so himself?
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