James always turned into a fierce protector when it came to anything involving Ms. Mirabella, like a knight ready to fight for his lady’s honor. Wyatt was long used to this.
James glanced at Wyatt, sidestepping the topic. Instead, he casually asked, “How old are you this year?”
Wyatt blinked, puzzled by the sudden question, but quickly replied, “32.”
“32, huh…” James shook his head, drumming his fingers lightly on the table. “How about I give you a six-month vacation? How does that sound?”
Wyatt’s face fell at the word “vacation.” “No way, James! Did I mess something up? Just tell me, and I’ll fix it right away!”
In James’s world, a “vacation” was more like banishment to the middle of nowhere.
With a hint of disdain, James looked at Wyatt. “32 and still single?”
Wyatt finally caught on: “…”
So, James was both rubbing salt in the wound and throwing a bit of shade at him?
Just then, a knock came at the door.
Curtis walked in, carrying a pile of files. After nodding at James, he turned to Wyatt, who looked like he’d just swallowed a lemon. “What’s with you?”
Wyatt, feeling a good friend should share in the misery, said seriously, “James, Curtis here is three years older than me and he doesn’t have a partner either.”
Curtis: “?”
What was Wyatt rambling about today? Was he speaking some kind of gibberish?
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