A "hard to explain" situation.
Arabella Vanderbilt pressed her lips together, clearly not letting him off the hook easily.
Joel Russo sighed, watching her animated eyebrows and eyes, finally giving in with a playful peck on her lips, his voice carrying a hint of coaxing.
"What do you want for lunch?"
"..." Arabella turned her head, ignoring him.
"You're injured now, so let's skip Sichuan cuisine for a bit. How about Zhejiang cuisine?"
"..."
"Or maybe we could go for herbal food instead."
"..."
"Or do you want some simple porridge and side dishes?"
Arabella pressed her lips, a sweet smile flickering in the depths of her eyes.
Vincent: "..."
Before, it was Mr. Russo who was angry. It was Miss Arabella trying every possible way to please him.
Now...
He couldn't bear to continue watching Mr. Russo's embarrassment.
Finally, after Joel's repeated guesses, Arabella finally said in moderation:
