If it was before, he might have tried to persuade Tiffany Lynch with a few words. But now, when he thought of her going on strike and making a scene, his anger flared up. He bluntly walked away.
He didn’t plan to ddle.
Hannah lowered her head, her eyes falling on Tiffany Lynch’s light yellow dress, a thoughtful look on her face.
Tiffany Lynch thought it was envy and was thrilled to say, "This is a new style from R’s sumr collection. George bought this especially for , it’s the only one in the city. I initially said I didn’t want it, but George insisted it suited wonderfully."
A hint of shy pleasure was shining through her face, fearing that others wouldn’t know how much George River dotes on her.
But Hannah suddenly sighed, "Miss Lynch, aren’t you worried that wearing so much might cause a heat stroke?"
Her tone was concerned.
Tiffany Lynch’s smile froze on her face as the worker holding her skirt burst into laughter. She threw a death glare at the worker before turning back to Hannah.
She chuckled, "Miss Winter is as sharp-tongued as ever."
Hannah responded with a sigh, "I’m just genuinely concerned about you. After all, there would be one less person to admire my pretty face if you fainted."
By noon, the sun hadn’t shown any rcy and was blazier than ever. The cicadas in the trees were chirping more enthusiastically than before, almost deafening.
Tiffany Lynch, dripping in sweat as she dragged her long dress around; and her performance in front of the cara fell significantly short.
Especially when compared to Hannah’s earlier performance.
The makeup on her face had to be retouched over and over again, making it as white as a plastered wall.
Most likely, looking at the photographer’s displeased expression, Tiffany Lynch realized her performance wasn’t up to par and gradually felt exhausted.
She strained every nerve in a bid to outshine Hannah, always believing she would not lose to her.
Although the long dress was beautiful, she had difficulty managing it.
Hannah glanced from a distance, probably found it uninteresting, told Lucy Taylor and then found a shady spot to escape the heat.
She found a tree to rest under and realized she had forgotten her snacks. Feeling low, she stood under the shade and fanned herself continuously with her hand. Drops of sweat rolled down her forehead, wetting so stray hairs on her cheek.
The heat got unbearable.
Just then, her mobile rang.
As soon as Hannah answered, a familiar voice wafted from the other end.
Like a pool of fresh water entering a hot sumr’s day, he said, "Turn around."
Before she even hung-up, Hannah turned around to see a familiar tall figure standing next to a large fountain.
Water droplets splashing from the fountain were refracting sunlight, casting broken shadows on the man. His eyes deep, yet soft.
He reached out a hand to her.
Hannah stood dumbfounded for a mont, and then the next second, a smile blood across her face.
Feeling the force of a soft body crush into his arms, he felt enriched. It was like a lost treasure had co back to him.
Like an octopus, Hannah clung onto the man, her voice sweet and submissive, "How co you ca to see ?"
Arnold Simmons took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the beads of sweat off the lady’s forehead in his arms. His gestures, gentle, "This is a property of the Simmons Family, so I ca for an inspection."
The man carried with him the coolness from the air-conditioned room and a refreshing scent that was extrely enchanting in such a sumr day.
Hannah couldn’t resist a deep sniff, as though the heat around her had dissipated.
She rubbed against the handkerchief in the man’s hand and sighed, "I thought you ca exclusively to see . It seems I was daydreaming again."
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