NovelEnglishIt was like a chef telling a little baby how to fix a car-completely unbelievable! Roseanne glanced at Liz, who stood frozen in place, and spoke in a calm, even tone, "Thank you for your advice earlier, Senior Liz. I, of course, understand the importance of rigor, truth-seeking, and pragmatism in our research. These are the fundamental qualities of a scientist. But I believe we should also be open to listening and accepting valid suggestions from others. Don't you think?" "Just like with today's situation. It doesn't matter who makes the suggestion or what it is about. It should be verified before we decide if it's right or wrong, instead of just going with our gut feeling." Roseanne's tone was smooth, as though she was merely stating facts.
But to Liz, every word struck like a needle, painfully sharp.
It wasn't a lecture, but it felt like one.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHer face flushed hot in an instant, as if set aflame.
After another busy day, Roseanne dragged her exhausted body home, flopped down on the couch, and immediately snuggled into a pillow, closing her eyes.
Under the snight sky, swere too busy to sleep, while others reveled in the nightlife.
The pounding drums, the dazzling lights, the young, sexy bodies gyrating on the dance floor - York was caught up in the feverish enthusiasm, his body moving involuntarily.
In his hand was a wine glass, the red liquid swirling with his movements.
His gaze occasionally swept over the young bodies in the dance floor, like a panther choosing its prey.
"What are you looking at? Didn't you say you wanted to play cards? What, lost too much and not feeling it anymore?" Cliff teased lazily, bringing over a drink, noticing York had slipped away to dance alone. York raised an eyebrow, replying, "What are you talking about? I've never been afraid of losing." "Tonight's my lucky night; a few girls in there are just my type. Beats playing cards, don't you think?" As he spoke, a girl in a little black dress winked at him, and York enthusiastically blew a kiss back.
2 Cliff, who always had a steady girlfriend, couldn't understand the appeal of these fleeting encounters: "...I'd advise you to take it easy, don't end up sick." "Don't worry, I know my limits," York reassured him, nodding towards the interior, "Is Murray still in a bad mood?" Cliff sighed and shrugged. "Wouldn't you be, with that kind of pressure?" "I think it's great. My mom's been urgingto have kids. Having one ready-made seems perfect to me." York couldn't help but find sschadenfreude in the situation.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmCliff gave him a look, teasing, "Just make sure Murray doesn't hear you say that, or he might just dump the kid on you to raise-oh, and get rid of the mom too." At that, York's face paled: "God no, keep that 'blessing' away from me!" He wasn't keen on getting tangled up with any woman.
Sure, play all you want, but there's always another woman out there! As long as the poof is big enough, what fish can't you catch? But to get "caught" with a baby... that was a different story.
What sane man wants to be blackmailed with pregnancy? If such a thing ever happened to him, his dad would've broken his legs.
So, York played all he wanted but never without taking negessary precautions. m
Cliff was about to respond when Murray got out, coat in hand, looking tout, coating ready to leave. "Cliff, find someone to drivehome." X
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