Amelia perked up when she received a call from Christopher Robinson.
She didn't even bother saving his number, so it was quite shocking when he personally called her.
They had just outwitted each other at the charity sale, and now he wanted to continue this on her turf?
Amelia didn't dare to imagine.
"I'm downstairs. Come out."
Amelia:........
"Mr. Robinson, should capitalists allow people to catch their breath?"
Christopher clamped a cigarette between his fingers and leaned against the back seat with his phone, the cool breeze drifting into the car, causing the smoke to flicker.
Warm yellow street lights shone on him, casting a warm hue on his figure.
It made people feel strangely warm just by looking at him.
"Two hours, five million, want it?"
Now in dealing with Amelia, Christopher would either throw money at her or, well, throw money at her. He must know her weakness, and perhaps he understood that this girl loved money.
