After saying that, he rembered sothing else, his voice gentler than before, "Mr. Ingram called in the afternoon to remind not to forget to prepare a box of fresh oranges in the office. These past few days, oranges have gone out of season, but I had soone buy a box from out of town. I’ll squeeze so orange juice for you first thing tomorrow morning."
Orange juice again...
Nathalie Quinlan’s temples throbbed with a hint of resignation in her eyes, but she didn’t say anything else, "Hmm."
She hung up the phone with Jethro Yapiter.
That’s when she saw a new ssage on her phone; it was a reply from Myles Sullivan, roughly saying ’he’s been very busy recently and probably can’t find the ti to have a al’.
Nathalie Quinlan didn’t mind. She was just fulfilling her own promise, thinking that since she had agreed to invite him for a al, she should at least find so ti to have this al. But since Myles Sullivan didn’t have ti, there was nothing she could do about it. It would have to wait until next ti.
She briefly replied to Myles Sullivan and then set her phone aside, starting to dry her hair.
The hairdryer Amadeus Yancey prepared worked well; it dried her hair quickly even at a low temperature.
After drying her hair, Nathalie Quinlan brushed her teeth, washed her face, didn’t bother with any creams, just splashed so water on her face, and then went out.
Her laptop was blinking with light.
She clicked to see.
It was a private ssage from a staff mber at the music platform where she posted her songs—[Lighten Chaser, a very prestigious person in Beijing wants to invite you and your family for a al. Could you spare so ti to et?]
Nathalie Quinlan’s brows were fiercely independent; she glanced at the ssage but didn’t even feel the desire to reply, imdiately deleted the ssage, closed her laptop, and walked towards the edge of the bed in the bedroom.
She was involved in music purely because she had promised Shawn Norton to promote traditional culture, plus she herself enjoyed using music as a leisurely pasti. When she was tired, she could play to rest and adjust her mood, that was all!
As for dining with others, probably she didn’t have the ti, nor the interest!
*
The Sullivan Family.
Ivy Wilmar received a reply from the platform, and her face turned unpleasant; a rare show of anger appeared on her usually elegant face, as she scoffed, "This Lighten Chaser, really thinks so highly of herself!"
Ghania Quinlan was playing the piano next to her, stopped playing upon hearing her, and asked obediently, "Aunt, what’s wrong?"
Ivy Wilmar generally disdained to deal with her, but at this mont, she was furious and didn’t hide her feelings, coldly saying, "I had soone invite Lighten Chaser to dinner, ’she’ refused."
If she hadn’t revealed her identity and had been refused, Ivy Wilmar wouldn’t have been so angry. However, this ti, she had disclosed her identity associated with the piano association and still got refused; it felt like a thorough slap in the face.
She had already been refused by Shawn Norton once today. That wasn’t so bad since he was at least a master famous both dostically and abroad. But Lighten Chaser was just soone playing underground music, and yet so presumptuous.
Seeing her irrecoverably upset, Ghania Quinlan bit her lip, went over to wrap her arm around her aunt’s, and said understandingly with a well-behaved look, "Aunt, I know you and Uncle want to et with this Lighten Chaser for my sake."
"’She’s’ just carving out a niche with a gimmick of combining traditional instrunts with rock that’s gotten so flattery online. I’ve heard that most underground rockers are rather tacky, self-important, thinking they’re sothing special. ’She’ probably thinks her fa is substantial, deliberately acting mysterious, and might not even realize who she just refused."
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