Cressida wasn't foolish, she guessed that Tim Payne must have warned Beckett Jeans sternly, which was a good thing for her; as long as that scumbag wasn't brainless, he wouldn't pester her anymore.
However, tonight's dinner was naturally still hosted by Tim Payne.
When the meal concluded and the server brought out the dessert, Cressida had just taken a bite of the caramel sea salt mousse, which had a unique texture, when her phone vibrated—it was a call from Martin Yates.
She instinctively glanced at the person opposite her, signaling him to stay quiet.
She stood up and walked to the window, then softly greeted, "Uncle Yates."
"Are you still at the store?"
"No..." Cressida glanced briefly at Tim Payne not far away, "At home."
"Are you free in a couple of days?"
"What is it?"
"I'd like to invite you over for a meal, and bring your grandmother along. It's not good for her to be alone at home, and I know you worry."
"Why would you suddenly invite me to dinner?"
