"Please, Sir, have a look." The crisp voice, heavy with grievance.
"None of them look good, too ordinary," Chester Yale said, putting down the magazine he was holding and raised an eyebrow at her.
His eyes clearly said: Evelyn Sherman, are you trying to fob me off with this sort of trinket for our wedding ring?
"That's the best one they've got in there, don't believe me? Go pick one out yourself! You'll probably choose something even uglier," Evelyn grumbled irately.
Being a know-it-all and picky about her choices, what skill does that take?
"Fine, I'll choose," Chester stood up from the reception sofa, tugging at his blazer, then took her hand and strode toward the counter.
He casually instructed the staff, "Bring out these few rings."
"Certainly, Mr. Chester." The staff, upon seeing Chester Yale, were all respectful and could barely conceal their adoration, wishing they could keep staring at his face.
