At Spago Beverly Hills.
Harrison arrived at the high-rise building according to the address in the group chat. A waiter led him to the private room, and upon seeing Eric, he furrowed his brows and asked, “Why did you book this restaurant? Don’t you know my brother doesn’t like Chinese food?”
In the past, their gatherings had always been in private clubs, and the main courses were always Western food. Changing the location was one thing, but picking a restaurant that Frederick would never enjoy was another.
Eric hesitated, seemingly unsure how to respond, before finally saying, “Mrs. Frederick wanted Chinese food.”
At those words, Harrison’s expression instantly soured. He pulled out a chair and sat down heavily, looking irritated. He opened his phone, closed it, then reopened it repeat
