Emily Rollins wore a burgundy tube top body-fitting dress made of velvet, which was low-key and gorgeous, which complemented her appearance.
Her waist-length curly hair was scattered over her shoulders, giving her a sense of style in every gesture.
But when she smiled, there were two small and cute dimples on her immature face.
There was a fierce collision with that familiar style, and even a pair of crescent-like smiling eyes became affectionate.
Paul Scott choked, and pressed a string of symbols on the keyboard uncontrollably with his fingertips.
"Not good-looking, too old." He said insincerely.
Thinking of the little girl smiling at others dressed like this, he felt a fire in his heart.
He was also a man, knew men better, knew that no man could resist the charm of Emily Rollins at this moment.
Emily Rollins frowned fiercely upon hearing this.
Not good looking? too old?