Hank pressed his lips into a tight line, genuinely annoyed.
It was, in fact, the first time in his life some fresh-faced kid had ever looked him in the eye and called him disgusting.
Without a word, Hank spun on his heel and followed the path Giselle had taken.
Flavia was seated too far away to catch their exact words, but she hadn't missed Hank's deliberate interactions with Giselle. She knew exactly what those signals meant—the man had locked onto a new target.
Whether out of genuine concern for the girl or some lingering, unresolved bitterness toward Hank, she leaned over to Loyce, who was watching the ocean breeze outside. "There's something I think you should know," Flavia said softly.
Loyce didn't turn her head. "Go ahead."
Flavia hesitated for a second, wetting her lips. "Hank seems very interested in Giselle. She's so young and naive... I just don't want to see her heart get broken. She just needs a good man to share her life with, not someone like him."
Loyce finally turned to look at her.
Flavia found it hard to meet Loyce's gaze. Under those calm, mirror-like eyes, she always felt as if every hidden thought she harbored was laid bare.
She lowered her lashes, blinking nervously.
Fortunately, Loyce didn't argue with her.
Regardless of Flavia's underlying motives, Loyce entirely agreed. Giselle was sweet and inexperienced; she had no business getting tangled up with a cynical, calculated playboy like Hank.
"I understand. I'll have a word with him," Loyce finally replied, and Flavia let out a quiet sigh of relief.
A waiter approached, setting down a beautifully plated dish of sliced geoduck clam. He offered a polite bow. "Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be closing the restaurant a bit early tonight. A severe storm is expected to hit the coast, and the high winds and waves could pose a safety risk. We apologize for the inconvenience."

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