"Hmm, you... Norman York?" Skye Brown was slightly tipsy at this moment.
Norman York had well-defined facial features, deep and three-dimensional, the kind that wouldn't appear flat when captured on the big screen.
"Yes, it's me." Norman York slightly curved his lips, the arc of his smile deeper than usual.
He wasn't someone who liked to chat up strangers; he was famously aloof within the industry.
But seeing the slightly tipsy woman in front of him, exuding a charm distinctly different from her professionalism, career, and age, he found himself surprisingly patient in dealing with her.
"You... so handsome... eyes... beautiful..." Skye Brown swirled her wine glass.
Norman York smiled; he had heard such compliments and flattery too often.
But the next second, the woman holding the wine glass suddenly stood up, grabbed his neatly ironed shirt collar, and harshly whispered in a hoarse voice, "Too bad, what I hate most are handsome men with beautiful eyes!"
