With her head down and her papers in her arms, Sherman trotted past him, her work clothes rubbed against the corner of his suit.
She could smell the faint scent of body wash on his suit, and it smelled good.
She smelled like orange shampoo, and he could smell i t, too.
Billy was smiling behind the two people, and he was very happy about the situation of the two people at this time.
Billy was still carrying Sherman's down jacket, which a colleague had just given her, and as he walked past Kingsley, he felt superior.
Sherman frowned, ‘Where does he get his superiority?’
Billy walked out after Sherman. Kingsley stared at the down jacket in a bad mood.
"You pick a place, and we'll finish this business as soon as possible." Sherman took the down jacket and put it on.
But Billy was not in a hurry. He was in a happy mood.
The car was parked nearby, and the two men walked u p to it. As the door opened and they were about to get i n, Sherman's arm was grabbed from behind.
She looked back in surprise. It was Kingsley.
He took hold of her wrist and looked down at her with his deep, dark eyes, "You want him to drive you?"
"It is said that you have excellent manners. Everyone who knows you speaks highly of you. But how can you be such a rascal now, Mr. Wright?”
Mature men differ greatly from ordinary men, because ordinary men would certainly not tolerate that kind of provocation.
But unlike most men, Kingsley simply smiled and ignored Billy's provocative remarks, pretending he had never heard them.
Annoyed by the neglect, Billy took Sherman by the right wrist.
Sherman, disgusted at the situation, looked at
Kingsley and said, "I have said what I need to say, and I will not talk with you anymore. Please let go of my hand immediately. I'm not comfortable, Mr. Wright."
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