When the dishes arrived, Sylvan Cheney uncorked a bottle of red wine for himself.
"Can I drink some wine?" Sylvan Cheney swirled the glass and softly asked her.
"No, you can't. You still have to drive. You can't joke around with my life and the baby's."
Hearing this, Sylvan paused, chuckled lightly, and said, "Then I won't drink."
He placed the wine bottle back where it was.
Jasmine Yale set the flowers aside and started to eat.
The air was filled with the fragrance of roses, setting a romantic and dreamy atmosphere, perfect for a date.
Sylvan sat across from Jasmine at a long table. Even so, he could still clearly see her every move, capturing her expressions completely.
Jasmine ate her favorite foods, her eyes smiling: "You should eat too, eat more. Shall we talk about work later?"
"Sure."
Time moved slowly, "tick-tock, tick-tock," like a slow-moving carriage.
The curtains were drawn, and the private room had a nighttime ambiance.
