Seeing James Bolton looking so defeated and timid, even the still-young Megan York felt her face grow hot, her heart beating several times faster than usual. At the same time, a sense of accomplishment welled up inside her. She glanced at her own prominent chest, thinking a little shamelessly, “So he does notice what I’ve got! Even though I’m still young, in terms of size, I’m not any smaller than my sister. I’m a C cup too.” At this moment, it seemed to her that the fantasies that had tangled in her mind for so long might not be entirely hopeless. After all, he was already divorced from her sister, and now he was a single man, while she herself was also a single—woman—girl, so... hehe...

With the corner of his eye, James Bolton watched Megan York leave, strutting off like a proud little hen that had just laid an egg. He secretly breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time, a slightly dirty thought surfaced: “I never really noticed before, but this girl’s actually got quite a figure! And she seems pretty bouncy too—when she stands up straight, they jiggle like jelly. I wonder what it would feel like to touch them?” As he thought this, the little guy in his pants started to show signs of waking up.

James Bolton hurriedly scattered the indecent images in his mind, silently reciting ‘a pure heart is unshaken even if the sky falls’ several times before he barely managed to suppress his rising desire. He continued working on the last dish, the oil-braised beef.

“How is it that the fire flares up as soon as I light it? Looks like I’ll have to go to ‘Benlai’ tonight.” Feeling the fire in his belly wouldn’t die down, James Bolton muttered to himself as he tossed the wok.

The ‘Benlai’ James Bolton referred to was the famous ‘Benlai Bar’ among white-collar workers in Shenzhen—the city’s most renowned one-night-stand bar. In the six months since his divorce from Helen York, he had become a regular there to take care of his physical needs. In just half a year, James Bolton had become well-acquainted with many people at the bar, with quite impressive results in his romantic pursuits—from pure young girls to mature women, from slender, elegant beauties to voluptuous, seductive ladies, all types were represented.

……

When James Bolton finally brought the ‘Song Sao Fish’ with sauce into the dining room, he was stunned. The lights were off, and only six candle flames, like tiny beans, flickered from two ‘mountain-shaped’ white tin candlesticks on the table, casting the large dining room into a dim, hazy atmosphere.

“What’s this? Candlelight dinner?” After putting the fish down on the table, James Bolton looked at Megan York sitting across from him, her face full of a mischievous smile, and asked.

Megan York first gave James Bolton a big smile, looking very pleased with herself, “Yes, a candlelight dinner! Romantic, isn’t it?” This girl was already school-beauty level, and under the dim candlelight, her smile took on a hint of youthful allure, making the desire in James Bolton’s belly, which hadn’t quite died down, threaten to flare up again.

James Bolton quickly shifted his gaze, pulled out the chair opposite Megan York, and sat down, pretending to be dismissive: “Romantic? What do you know about romance, little girl? A romantic candlelight dinner is for lovers eating Western food—silver plates, silver forks, silver knives, a violin softly playing or gentle piano music, moonlight like water, eyes meeting across the table—that’s romance. How could our meal possibly be called romantic? The people are wrong, the food is wrong, the tableware is wrong, even the setting is wrong.”

James Bolton’s unromantic words smacked away the little bit of romantic feeling Megan York had, making her a bit angry. She pouted and said, “That’s not true! Beauty, good food, and flickering candlelight—that’s romance! Your cooking barely counts as good food, but are you saying I’m not a beauty?”

Having spent plenty of time around women, James Bolton knew that whether it was a woman or a girl, when she was preening like a peacock, you should never pour cold water on her. Otherwise, that cold water could turn into gasoline, and the resulting fire would be enough to burn ten men to ashes.

So, seeing the little lines of anger already appearing on Megan York’s forehead, a sign she was about to blow up, James Bolton quickly changed his tune and casually agreed, “Yes, yes, you’re a beauty, okay? But as for romance, let’s wait and see which lucky guy in his next life gets to be romantic with you, the beauty! I may not be your brother-in-law anymore, but I’m still like your brother. How could a little sister and her brother have a romantic dinner together?”

James Bolton’s lack of romantic sense made Megan York pout even more, angrily tossing down the chopsticks she had just picked up and standing up to leave: “I’m not eating, you’ve made me so mad.”

Seeing the little girl acting so childish, James Bolton found it funny but didn’t dare show it. Otherwise, this petty girl would really get upset. He quickly put on a look of sincere apology, got up to stop the departing Megan York, and gently pushed her back into her seat, apologizing: “Alright, alright, I was wrong, okay? You’re right, it’s romantic—our candlelight dinner is super romantic! If anyone dares say it’s not, I’ll sue them for slander in court.”

After much coaxing, Megan York finally went from angry to amused, and the two of them were able to start their dinner in earnest.