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.

order, Joyce paid attention to what he

quite familiar

instincts. I don't remember what food I like or dislike,

yourself?" Joyce curiously asked because Luther had also experienced temporary memory loss before, losing

Clint shook his head.

people and events. Computers, phones, and language literacy seem fine," he shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It's fine like this. Forgetting who I am allows me to forget the things

much. Everything will

after, the waiter

starters,

lobster, king crab, deep-sea abalone slices, and caviar truffle, a seafood gourmet dish with a hint of yellow mustard seasoning. It was accompanied by a small portion of tri-color quinoa rice ball. The overall combination was

the taste to be good. It was completely different from the

your taste leans towards Japanese cuisine," she concluded. "A person's habits are the hardest to

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

with his knife, pretending to be

the picture looked nice, and

and evasive response. Joyce

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 showing

and saw him still chewing slowly. She sat

suddenly noticed something: the way Munin dined, from his posture to his knife skills, even his chewing demeanor,

some extent, it was reminiscent

must be cultivated over a

of perplexity. She sensed that the man in front of her seemed

felt her scrutinizing

asked, "What's wrong? Do you have