Valentine Teller put down her chopsticks, her sleeve accidentally swept the spoon off the dining table to the floor.
She hurriedly bent down to pick it up, but the person next to her bent down at the same time, and they couldn't avoid each other, their heads bumped together.
"Ouch!" Valentine cried out, covering her forehead, startled, and sat up straight.
Mark Reed, mindful of his identity, did not rub his forehead, just gave her a cold glare, the clumsy little brat, her head is quite hard, it hurt him terribly.
He couldn't act out, so he had to bear it.
He picked up the spoon and put it back on the table.
With the meal finished, everyone started leaving one after another, Valentine hurriedly followed outside, fearing Mark would pull her back and not let her go.
Outside the hotel, Valentine saw colleagues without cars catching rides, but she was left alone walking further out, no one stopped to offer her a ride.
The nights had turned chilly with the autumn wind.
