Chapter 374: Caryn Zachmann Might Ask to Have a Meal_1

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 apartment 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 time. I'm afraid she'll become 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 me drive her? Why did she insist on taking a cab herself? It's such a waste of money."