The image of Jasmine Yale under the lights brought a sense of surrealism to Charles Mcintosh.
He had known her since she was very young, back then he used to call her "Little Miss".
In the blink of an eye, she had grown up.
Now, she also has the ability to protect her own child.
"Mr. Mcintosh, come to my house for lunch. Butler Santana is also there. If she knows you're coming, she'll be especially happy."
"No, I still have some things to handle in the afternoon and will leave soon." Charles Mcintosh raised his hand to glance at his watch, "Take care of yourself."
"You too."
Jasmine Yale rambled on with Charles Mcintosh, sometimes telling him about Butler Santana's recent updates, sometimes about matters at the company.
Most of the time, Charles Mcintosh listened attentively.
The girl's voice was pleasant to hear, very melodious, capable of uplifting the mood of the listener.
