The Year She Stopped Being Crazy for Him novel Chapter 266

The car pulled up to The Springfall, and Hassan followed Natalie out, trailing her all the way up to the private room on the second floor.

Jude Sheridan was leaning back in his chair, a plate of freshly washed grapes resting on his lap as he lazily watched the dancer performing in front of the folding screen.

At the sound of the door opening, he glanced over, his eyes lighting up when he saw Hassan walking in behind her. "Well, well. A rare guest."

Jude smiled at the server standing nearby. "Bring out a few of Mr. Carlson's favorites. Just tell your manager, he knows what to do."

He casually set the plate of grapes on the table, his amber eyes catching the light with a sharp, brilliant gleam. "I specifically asked for their best dancer."

His tone turned teasingly light. "Though, I have to admit... she doesn't hold a candle to Natalie."

He swept a hand through the air, tracing an exaggerated, voluptuous curve. "Natalie's figure is much better, too."

Hassan walked over, his expression completely blank, his dark, bottomless gaze locking onto him. "What are you trying to pull?"

Jude shrugged. "I'm not trying to pull anything. You took my favorite toy away. So, I just had to find something else to play with."

Natalie smoothed her skirt and took a seat, quietly sipping her juice.

Jude suddenly clapped his hands together—a sharp smack that echoed loudly through the private room.

Natalie paused as she heard him say, "Oh, careful. I just drank out of that glass."

Her fingers stiffened. She glanced up at him. One look at his infuriatingly smug expression and she knew he was completely making it up.

Was he testing Hassan's reaction?

She looked over at Hassan, but he looked entirely unbothered. He calmly flagged down a server and ordered a bottle of red wine.

"Mr. Carlson voluntarily asking for alcohol?" Jude mused. "That's a first."

It was common knowledge in their circle that Hassan rarely touched cigarettes or alcohol. Him ordering a drink of his own volition was incredibly rare.

Jude fished a pack of cigarettes out of his suit pocket, shook one loose, and offered it to him between two fingers. "Since we're drinking, how about a smoke?"

Hassan didn't take it. He glanced at him, his tone indifferent. "The wine is for you."

Jude casually placed the cigarette between his lips, mumbling around it, "I never said I wanted a drink."

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