"So you're saying is, this pot is made from a foreign tribe in the east?" Evangeline asked, eyeing the man in front of her.
His dark hair was loosely tied, reaching the blazer of his shoulders left open over a black shirt. Evangeline didn't like long hair guys, but she didn't know why she was mesmerized by him. He felt oddly . . . familiar.
Dimitri Hernandez. The man that Eric said was a tea expert and his former boss. She found it strange that Eric seemed to have lots of connection despite his status, but her mother's pressing matter took utmost priority. She was so close to figuring how her mother died.
