Albertâs stomach rumbled at the sight, but before he dug in, he dialed Jessieâs mom to extend his thanks.
Elsie, unwilling to miss out, hovered nearby, her ears perked.
Albert shot her a glance.
His expression was mixed.
When Lettie picked up, she remained frosty as she said, âMr.
Waston, whatâs the deal?â
Albert humbled himself further.
In a respectful tone, he praised, âHello, Lettie.
I just got back and tried your chicken soup.
Real thoughtful.
Those bamboo shoots, fresh as they come.
But Iâm sure it wasnât easy to find them this time of year.
Maybe just toss in some yams next time.
â
Lettie scoffed.
âAre you already lining up for another bowl? And drop the first-name basis.
Too cozy.
I donât want the folks getting the wrong idea.
â
Albert wasnât fazed and maintained his respect.
He used to charm women with ease.
Age hadnât dulled his skills.
Before hanging up, heâd have his next soup lined up.
Elsie stood agape.
She blurted out, âMr.
Waston, youâre really something else.
â
Albert chuckled softly.
âToo bad Jessie isnât falling for it.
â
Elsie nodded.
âGuess you didnât take her seriously enough, hurt her too much for a shot at the future.
â
Albert glanced up at Elsie, who realized her blunder and made a hasty exit.
A car pulled into the yard, likely Jessieâs.
Albert caught sight of her stepping out of the car just as he glanced through the floor-to-ceiling glass.
The sky was painted with rosy hues.
In the twilight, Jessie emerged from the car, dressed in a chic silk blouse and knee-length skirt, looking stunning as ever.
She strolled toward him through the fading light.
Less than ten meters away, separated only by transparent glass, she stood in the dimness while he lounged in the opulent dining room, eyeing her like a lord.
After a beat, Jessie gave a slight nod, maintaining a polite distance.
Albert chuckled dismissively.