The producer smugly nodding his head, then shifting his gaze towards Hannah.
Hannah, hand propping her cheek, twirled her teacup and raised her hand, letting it circle a few times on the table before landing back down onto it. "The words sure are nicer than the singing. Ah, Mr. Landon mentioned that you're tone-deaf, right? Why don't you sing me a piece?"
Her brows curved up, appearing like a playful young master at a teahouse, an aura of lazy whimsicality surrounding her.
Tiffany Lynch clutched her chest, her hand tightly gripping her shirt, her face deathly pale, about to burst with rage, when she was stopped by the producer.
"Let's discuss the plotlines instead."
Hannah glanced at him. "Who said I would agree?"
Shipping her with someone else?
Her sugar daddy would get jealous if he saw this.
Moreover, she wasn't stupid enough to get paired with someone she so detested.
Absurd.
