Chairman Francoeur had often said that many people admired Sonny.
Even setting aside his status and wealth, just his face, his smile, his natural charm—most women would find it difficult to resist.
“Miss Winnie, you’re our guest,” Sonny said with a gentle smile. “Of course I should be attentive. Try the soup and see if it suits your taste. People in Wiltspoon love soup—we drink it often, and we take pride in making it well.”
Winnie picked up her spoon. Under Sonny’s calm, smiling gaze, she took a sip.
She didn’t comment right away. Instead, she took two more spoonfuls before finally pausing.
Chairman Francoeur looked at her with curiosity. “Winnie, how is it? Does it taste good?”
“Grandpa,” Winnie replied simply, “try it yourself.”
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