Isabella Weaver sighed lightly. Was it already that obvious? Even Cora Ginger had noticed.
"Did she really steal your boyfriend? That vixen is really shameless! Wait here, I'll go out and scold her again!"
Saying this, Cora Ginger rolled up her sleeves and started to rush out.
Isabella Weaver hurriedly pulled her back, "Forget it, we're about to start work. Don't go, she's probably already gone."
"True, hmph, next time if she dares to come again, just call me, we'll scold her to death!"
Warmth rose in Isabella Weaver's heart and she smiled, "Okay, thank you."
Cora Ginger stared at her for a long while, then suddenly jumped up, "No way, you're too pretty, especially when you smile, you can bewitch people. Quickly, let me put ugly makeup on you, or I'll never have my chance!"
Five minutes later, Isabella Weaver looked at herself in the mirror, not knowing whether to laugh or cry!
"So, how about it? Pretty good skills, right?"
"Yeah, not bad. I won't be called Isabella Weaver anymore."
"Huh?"
"Call me Ghost-feared!"
Cora Ginger burst into laughter, "A bit heavy-handed, just bear with it, let's go, time to get to work!"
Isabella Weaver stood up and went with her to the restaurant, each with a small cart to serve fruit plates and drinks.
As expected, the guests' gazes lingered longer on Cora Ginger today, which delighted her, and she eagerly took over the task of clearing plates, making Isabella Weaver much more relaxed.
Harry Hunter sat on the sofa in the VIP room, and as he watched Isabella Weaver walk in after pushing open the door, a slight expression finally appeared on his cold face.
When Isabella Weaver placed a super-sized fruit platter on the table, her wrist was suddenly grabbed.
"Isabella Weaver, do you think by painting yourself like a ghost, I wouldn't recognize you?"
The soothing classical music mixed with the man's deep, indifferent voice created an indescribable charm, so pleasant that it was hard to resist.
Undeniably, Isabella Weaver consented to Cora Ginger painting her like this primarily to ward off Harry Hunter.
Thinking of her panda eyes, exaggerated eyebrows, and overly red lipstick, Isabella Weaver felt a sense of courage. She didn't believe Harry Hunter would want her to drink with him looking this ugly!
She raised her head and suddenly showed a scary smile, "Mr. Hunter, doesn't my makeup look good?"
Sure enough, Harry Hunter couldn't help but close his eyes.
Isabella Weaver's smile grew even brighter, but before she could provoke Harry Hunter further, he pulled her down onto the sofa.
She pushed him away vigilantly, "What are you doing?"
Harry Hunter took out an envelope and handed it to her.
Isabella Weaver instinctively accepted it because she immediately recognized it was the envelope she had given to Harry Hunter, still bearing the Royalton Club's logo, bulging as if her nine thousand dollars hadn't been touched at all.
"Mr. Hunter..."
"I never touched your money." Harry Hunter's voice was calm, his handsome face expressionless, but the image of her earnestly counting money in the elevator yesterday appeared in his mind.
She was still lively and cute back then.
Isabella Weaver hesitated and handed the envelope back: "No, I smashed your glass, I should compensate you."
Harry Hunter didn't take it, lightly touched Isabella Weaver's face painted like a little kitten with his finger, and seeing the black smudge on his finger, he shook his head slightly, "No need for you to compensate."