"Alright, Miss Yale, be careful, the roads are slippery."
"Okay, I know, don't worry."
After hanging up, Sylvan Cheney furrowed his brow.
Because it was quiet in the car, he had heard Jasmine Yale's phone call.
"Does your maid call you 'Miss Yale'?" he asked lightly.
"Yes, why? Is there something wrong?"
"It's nothing." Sylvan Cheney didn't elaborate.
According to usual norms, since Jasmine Yale is married, the house staff should call her "Madam."
"President, when you return from this business trip, I'd like to give you a gift." Jasmine Yale didn't think too deeply about it.
"Why give me a gift?"
"It's nothing, it's just that you've given me so many gifts, I can't just take without giving anything in return, it wouldn't be right."
Her tone was calm, even with a hint of composure in her calmness, but Sylvan Cheney somehow felt a fire stoked within him.
He said in a deep voice, "I don't need you to give me gifts."
