Quinn did not mind Sam's coldness, however—she knew him well enough, and he certainly was not the type who would go shopping or comment seriously while one shopped. If anything, it was outrageous that he would come and sit around.

"Oh, hello, Sam," Lindsay greeted him when she saw him.

"I'm taking Quinn with me. We're having dinner with friends," he said.

"Oh, sure. Young people should socialize more often—it's good," Lindsay said cheerfully, having grown more tolerant of Sam these days.

Before this, while she would not disapprove whenever Sam mentioned he was going out, she would make a face, indicating clearly that she did not like it.

"It's still early now. Come try out your suit," she told him nonetheless.

"No, we're leaving now. Getting changed is too much effort…"

"Now!" Lindsay snapped sternly.

I'm tired

to pick this for you. Can't you put it on for your wife's sake?" Lindsay huffed, frustrated

just something I picked that I thought would suit you. Just try to see if it suits you—if you like it, I'll

replied flatly. "In case

his fingers shaking, as he was

he stepped out, everyone was exclaiming, "Looking good, Mr. Saunders! The suit is made

"Really?" Sam was skeptical.

in. "You really


not help giggling—he was still the

and straightened his lopsided tie, and everyone around them was smiling as they watched their romantic gesture… that was, everyone except Ryan, whose eyes were flaring with rage. He was waiting

Quinn noticed him shaking

she told him, "The

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