There was nothing wrong with what he said, but the tone of his voice was inexplicably suggestive, reminiscent of a husband reminding his wife as he prepared to leave the house.
Alfred Garland saw that Nathalie Quinlan’s step faltered as she walked out, and in the blink of an eye, the door to the apartnt was closed.
He twitched the corner of his mouth, turned back to look at the man sitting leisurely there, and said with a complex gaze, "Amadeus, you tease Ms. Quinlan like this every ti. I’m afraid she’ll beco immune to you."
You always flirt with her in such an ambiguous way, never daring to speak your intentions clearly—isn’t that a problem?
That’s what he thought inwardly, but he didn’t dare say it out loud. He was joking; this was Amadeus, a man who played tricks on people without blinking.
"By the way, Amadeus, why did Ms. Quinlan refuse to let drive her? Why did she insist on taking a cab herself? It’s such a waste of money."
Amadeus Yancey lifted his eyelids and played with the Buddhist beads on his wrist, his voice husky, "Do you think she lacks money?"
"I..." Alfred Garland was at a loss for words!
The renowned doctor of McKinney charged in eight figures for seeing a single patient; of course, Nathalie Quinlan wasn’t short of money.
He scratched his head, feeling even more perplexed, "So does Ms. Quinlan really despise for talking too much?"
He didn’t think he talked too much. Shy and honest, he always played the role of a competent driver when on the job, never looking around or being talkative.
Amadeus Yancey was tempted to retort sharply, but seeing his genuinely confused expression, he felt that it would be a waste of his ti to pick on him.
He shifted his line of sight back to the laptop and said leisurely, "She probably didn’t want you to know where she was going, which is why she didn’t take your car."
"Ah?"
Alfred Garland didn’t understand.
"Why can’t she let know where she’s going?"
Amadeus Yancey couldn’t figure out if he was genuinely clueless or just pretending, but the forr seed more likely.
"Do you really think she doesn’t have acquaintances in Beijing?"
He thought he had made himself clear enough with that explanation.
But Garland still looked puzzled, scratching his head honestly, "But Amadeus, Ms. Quinlan said it was her first ti in Beijing and that she had never been here before. If she had never been here before, how could she have acquaintances?"
Amadeus Yancey: "..."
Seeing that he wasn’t interested in engaging, Garland racked his brain and then suddenly understood, "Oh, I get it. Mr. Zachmann is in Beijing; is Ms. Quinlan going to see Mr. Zachmann?"
No sooner had he finished his thought than he second-guessed himself, "That’s not right. If Ms. Quinlan is going to see Mr. Zachmann, why can’t she let know? It’s so strange..."
Amadeus Yancey had already lost the drive to respond, letting him ramble on beside his ear like a fly, albeit one with not so much intellect.
After mumbling to himself for a while and seeing that no one answered, Garland touched his nose sheepishly and suddenly rembered sothing.
"Amadeus, last night Ms. Zachmann sent a ssage asking if you had returned to Beijing. She said she thought she saw you; should I tell her?"
Because of Audrick Zachmann’s connection,
Caryn Zachmann was quite close to their circle, considered the baby sister among them, and one of the few won who had managed to integrate into their circle.
Everyone usually gave her so face and took good care of her.
Amadeus Yancey closed his laptop without even lifting his eyelids and said indifferently, "It’s up to you."
"Oh."
Garland thought for a mont and said, "Mr. Zachmann knows we’re in Beijing, I might as well tell her. What if Ms. Zachmann wants to invite us out to eat?"
With Amadeus back, everyone would surely want to gather and have a al; it was standard procedure.
It was usually Caryn Zachmann who called everyone together.
So he asked in advance.
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