You Hit My Heart by Kylie Stanford

Chapter 1939: I Want to Work for You

Joyce arrived at a Western restaurant and chose a cozy seat by the window.

"Don't you want a private room?" Clint suddenly asked, looking around with a clear sense of discomfort. His identity was noble, and he had never dined in the main hall before. He preferred a quiet environment and couldn't tolerate dining with others around.

Joyce looked around and noticed that the seat she chose was quite secluded. In theory, it would be difficult for others to notice them there.

"Are you worried about safety? Alright then, I'll get a private room," she said.

Joyce found Munin's request reasonable. After all, he didn't know who might be after him now. Perhaps the person who wanted to harm him had already arrived in Khebury, so it was better to be cautious. She stood up and said to the waiter, "Please get us a private room."

However, the waiter apologized, saying, "I'm sorry, but all the private rooms are fully booked at this time. This is the most secluded seat we have."

Joyce frowned and asked, tilting her head, "What if we make do with this seat?"

Clint reluctantly agreed, "Fine."

But he still couldn't hide his discomfort.

The waiter handed them two menus and said, "As a gesture of apology, we'll offer you two glasses of our signature red wine."

"No need, I don't drink," Clint declined directly.

Joyce glanced at him and thought to herself that he had a heart condition, so it was normal for him not to drink.

In reality, Clint's reason was different. He thought the complimentary wine was too low-grade. Normally, he only drank red wine from specific wineries. Anything below Lafite level was not worth his attention. "You can choose whatever you want to eat. Order for yourself," Joyce said, extending her hand, indicating Clint to make his selection.

Clint glanced over the menu and casually ordered four or five dishes, including appetizers, starters, main courses, and desserts. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Joyce paid

quite familiar with Western cuisine

my instincts. I don't remember what food I like

Luther had also experienced

Clint shook his head.

like this. Forgetting who I am allows

there were also happy things. Don't think too much. Everything

the waiter brought their

and starters,

seafood gourmet dish with a hint of yellow mustard seasoning. It was

to be good. It was completely different

are the hardest to change. I think you

hand holding the fork suddenly stiffened as he realized his oversight. He had disguised himself as a citizen of Country W, but he had forgotten to conceal his preferences

the plate with his knife, pretending to be nonchalant as he speared a piece of crab leg and

picture looked nice, and the taste...

and evasive response.

wanting to finish the meal quickly, send Munin back to the apartment, and then attend to some business so she could go home earlier. Anderson and Alisha were waiting for her at home. Clint silently ate, no longer speaking. He carefully avoided

eating long before him, she looked up and saw him still chewing slowly. She sat

from his posture to his knife skills, even his chewing demeanor, exuded an

extent, it was

cultivated over a long

eyes, feeling a hint of perplexity. She sensed that the man in front of her seemed to come from a noble background,

felt her

"What's wrong? Do you