Daniel paused, looking a bit sheepish. "How could I ever match up to Ms. Morris?"
Daniel truly believed he was unworthy of the exceptional Rebecca.
Sherman, with a slight parting of his lips, deadpanned, "You two, one's a clueless playboy, and the other's a cunning fox. You're practically a match made in heaven."
The term 'cunning fox' was something Sherman had picked up from Anthea recently. Talk about putting it to use.
At that, Daniel was beside himself, rushing to defend Rebecca: "Sherman! You've got Ms. Morris all wrong! She's not what you think; she's genuinely kind-hearted! She's helped countless people; she wouldn't even harm a fly!"
He couldn't fathom why Sherman held such a deep bias against Rebecca. Sherman usually seemed like a sharp guy, one with a clear sense of right and wrong. How could he be so mistaken now?
Without entertaining Daniel's protests, Sherman turned and headed downstairs.
Daniel sighed in frustration. Missing out on someone as kind-hearted as Rebecca—Sherman would regret it one day, and by then, it would be too late. Even if Sherman came to see Rebecca's worth, given her character, it wasn't guaranteed she'd reciprocate his feelings. After all, Rebecca wasn't one to chase after wealth and power for its own sake. Daniel wished Sherman would realize this before it was too late.
Downstairs, Anthea was embarking on a dessert-tasting adventure, devouring over a dozen plates in one go. The Michelin-starred pastry chef, completely astonished, asked, "Miss, aren't you worried about putting on weight?"
Anthea lifted her gaze slightly, smiling, "When the desserts are this divine, who cares about a little extra weight?"
There wasn't a pastry chef alive who didn't revel in such praise.
The chef beamed, "Since you're such a fan, let me showcase my specialty, 'Dessert Mont-blanc'!"
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