Chapter 65: Unable to Flirt with the Prince Charming

After returning from the Todd mansion, Cheyenne contacted Omari the next day and met him at a coffee shop. They agreed to meet at 3 PM, so she relaxed and slept until 1 PM. After a quick wash, she played Candy Crush before heading to the Left Bank Cafe. Omari was already there, seated by the window. He wore a silver-gray, double-breasted, three-piece suit. Perhaps due to the heat, he'd removed his jacket, revealing a white shirt and vest, and a perfectly sculpted physique. Handsome and sunlit, he looked like a wealthy young man straight out of television, attracting considerable attention.

A woman in a white dress and high heels approached, her hand resting casually on his shoulder. "Hey, handsome, can I friend you on Facebook?"

"Sorry, I don't have a Facebook account," Omari replied with a smile, turning his head. Up close, she found him incredibly handsome; his deep-set eyes held a tenderness that seemed to captivate.

"In this day and age, who doesn't use Facebook?" she thought. His refusal was clearly indirect. Embarrassed, she said hesitantly, "Then… can I have your phone number?"

"Sorry, for work-related matters, please call my office. My personal number is for friends only." He gently removed her hand from his shoulder.

Even in rejection, this gentle, godlike man was hard to dislike. Frustrated, the woman muttered, "Completely unable to flirt with him!" as she walked away, bumping into Cheyenne.

"Sorry!"

Cheyenne smiled faintly. "It's okay."

Omari saw Cheyenne enter and rose quickly, his handsome face softening further. "Cheyenne, are you alright?" He checked her over, visibly relieved.

His concern seemed excessive. "I'm not a porcelain doll," she retorted, annoyed.

He smiled, his voice a silken murmur. "In my eyes, Cheyenne needs more protection than a porcelain doll."

She was speechless. "I'm a ninth-degree black belt in taekwondo…"

"But you can never beat me," he interrupted, a truth she couldn't deny.

As they left, the woman in white watched, stunned. Had she heard correctly? The man who'd rebuffed her was now showering another woman with attention? She looked curiously at Cheyenne, who wore a long white T-shirt, white socks, and canvas shoes—an outfit seemingly out of place in the upscale cafe. She couldn't understand why she'd lost out to Cheyenne's charm.

Feeling watched, Cheyenne glanced around but saw no one.

"Cheyenne, have a seat. What would you like to drink?"

"A latte, less sugar."

"Okay."

The waiter arrived with their drinks. Cheyenne stirred her coffee and said, "The Todd family is really something!"

"Shh," Omari said, a finger to his lips. "Too many people. Let's go to a private room."

"Okay." Private rooms were expensive and required reservations, but for Omari, it was trivial. However, the cafe owner apologetically informed him, "Mr. Lara, I'm sorry, but all our private rooms are booked."

Omari frowned, looking at Cheyenne. At that moment, a customer exited Room No. 1. Tall and dark, he looked like a malevolent demon, his cold expression hardening upon seeing Cheyenne and Omari.

"How could he be here?" Cheyenne's smile froze.

(Note: I removed the repeated promotional text. It's inappropriate to include unsolicited advertisements in edited text.)