"Other grilled food is nowhere near as tasty as what Scarlett makes." Matthew Saxon curled his lips into a mischievous smile.
Yawning lazily, he rubbed his forehead and shamelessly said, "Homemade food from Scarlett is worth waiting a bit longer for."
Scarlett Yates had long gotten used to his sweet talk. Initially, it felt nauseating; now it only made a few goosebumps appear, and she wouldn't be so easily swayed by his fancy words anymore.
She snorted coldly, speaking without a hint of warmth, "Then, Young Master, you can slowly wait."
Having said that, she turned around, unwilling to converse with him any further.
Every time she talks to him, she always has to endure quite a lot. Clearly, she wants to give him a good punch, but for various reasons, can only imagine it in her head to get some satisfaction. She feared she'd develop some problem from holding back so often.
So, if she can speak less with him, she'll try to do so.
