"Miss Schultz, there's a new steak house near here. Would you like to try it?"
"Another Michelin-starred restaurant?" Savannah quirked up the corners of her mouth.
During her shoot in JK these days, every time she went out for lunch, the bodyguard wanted to take her to a fancy restaurant nearby, and she refused every time.
She knew it was Dylan's orders.
But why should they spend so much on a simple lunch?
Food in that kind of restaurant was usually more expensive than what she made in a day.
"Yes. Miss Schultz, you don't have to consider the price," the bodyguard certainly knew what she was thinking, "Mr. Sterling said you could use the card he gave you."
So, Dylan wanted to tempt her to use his money and make her a slave to his wealth; it seemed.
"No, thanks. I can't eat too much before work, I won't feel well. I'll be on the next street over – you don't need to follow me. Just finish your lunch."
"No, I will go with you," said the bodyguard.
