Mr. Warner, Your Wife is Running Away Again!-Chapter 763: Doesn’t Know How to Refuse

Norman Sutton picked up a small pastry in front of him, stuffed it into his mouth, cleared the bitterness in his mouth, and said, "Who’s in a bad mood? This little pastry is quite tasty."

Lance Quincy maintained his elegant smile, deliberately showing a trace of concern, and asked Norman Sutton, "Do you think Lana would say yes to me?"

Norman paused his action of stuffing pastries into his mouth, then assumed a nonchalant demeanor, "Why don’t you ask her? What does it have to do with me? How would I know what she’s thinking?"

After listening to Norman’s answer, Lance confidently said, "She will say yes to me."

Hearing Lance’s confident tone, Norman was taken aback. It felt as if he and Lana Holloway had known each other for a long time, as if they had already secretly promised themselves to each other and were just waiting for a wedding ceremony.

To be honest, hearing Lance’s words, Norman felt quite annoyed.

Although he definitely couldn’t figure out Lana Holloway’s thoughts, he also felt that if Lance really proposed to her, Lana Holloway would probably nod and agree.

Lance: "Do you know why I’m so sure?"

Without waiting for Norman to speak, Lance answered his own question, "It’s not because Lana likes me, but because she doesn’t know how to refuse. Even if my request makes her uncomfortable, she wouldn’t embarrass me in front of so many people. Her nature determines the outcome of my proposal."

When he returned home, Norman Sutton was still thinking about what Lance had said.

Upon careful reflection, it seemed that Lana Holloway indeed had such a personality. Just like the last two blind dates, she must have found the whole thing particularly troubling, but she still went through with it. She really seemed unable to refuse people.

Norman turned the thought over in his mind: If that’s the case, even if he was the one proposing, would Lana Holloway also not refuse?

After this thought popped into his head, Norman Sutton could no longer find peace.

He spent the whole night thinking about these matters, tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep. As he watched the sky outside gradually brighten, he simply threw the covers off, got out of bed, and took a shower.

He changed into some relatively low-key casual wear, put on a black knit hat, wore a mask on his face, and threw on a hooded down jacket. It was just after six when he went downstairs.

Hazel Yates had just gotten up, still in her pajamas, and when she saw the man wrapped up like a burglar at the stairway, she scrutinized him for a few moments before recognizing him as Norman Sutton. She frowned and asked, "Where are you going dressed like that?"

Norman didn’t stop for a moment, replying as he walked downstairs, "I’m going out for a bit."

Hazel called after him, "What time is it? Where are you going this early?"

Norman: "Out for some rice noodles."

He drove straight to the art exhibition venue, but the doors weren’t even open yet.

The street was also quiet, with only a few breakfast shops hosting a handful of customers.

Norman found a breakfast joint near the exhibition, chose a window seat, and ate his breakfast while observing the situation at the gallery.

At seven thirty, the gallery doors opened, probably for the exhibition staff, as they wore matching uniforms.

Norman loitered near the gallery in a sneaky fashion until nine when it officially opened to the public. Gradually, passersby started entering, joining the hubbub. Norman wandered around the venue for a bit to familiarize himself with the layout.

The exhibition halls on the first and second floors were open to the public for free, while the charity auction would be held on the third floor later that night.

Around ten o’clock, the hall was bustling with activity. There were aficionados and casual visitors alike, and of course, someone whose purposes were beyond art appreciation.

While others admired the paintings along the gallery walls, only Norman Sutton stood by a window on the second floor, which gave him a clear view of the entrance and the traffic of people and cars.

"Mr. Quincy, this way, please. They are already waiting for you in the lounge," a slightly aged male voice sounded from behind. Upon hearing the "Mr. Quincy" title, Norman Sutton didn’t think much of it at first.

But instantly, he heard Lance Quincy’s voice.

"Sorry, there was some traffic on the way, so I’m a bit late."

Hearing this, Norman turned his head and saw Lance Quincy coming toward him with a middle-aged man in a suit from a stairway nearby.

The middle-aged man smiled and said, "It’s fine, but didn’t you say you’d bring a friend along today? How come..."

Lance replied with a slight smile, "Oh, she had something come up and will be here later. How was the setup I asked you to arrange yesterday?"

The middle-aged man said, "Everything was done according to your instructions, Mr. Quincy. You can take a look later, and if there’s anything unsatisfactory, it can be adjusted."

Lance replied politely, "Alright, thank you very much."

As they were about to pass by Norman Sutton’s spot, Lance seemed to sense Norman’s gaze and looked in his direction.

Norman, masked and wearing a knit hat, showed only his eyes.

Although his outfit concealed his appearance well, it looked strange within the venue, immediately marking him as someone up to no good.

Lance couldn’t help but take a couple of extra glances at Norman, feeling more familiar the longer he looked. He whispered something to the middle-aged man beside him, who then walked straight ahead.

Lance walked up to Norman and, with a smile, said, "If I’m not mistaken, this must be Young Master Sutton, right?"

Norman wasn’t dressed like this to hide from Lance. So when Lance recognized him, he didn’t deny it, returning a conceited look.

Lance stood before Norman, glanced at the nearby window, and realized why Norman was here after seeing it gave a view of the exhibition entrance.

Smiling meaningfully, Lance said to Norman, "You can only see the entrance here. Lana might directly go to the underground parking, you know."

Norman: "None of your business!"

Lance: "By the way, are you here to stop me or to give me your blessing?"

Norman didn’t respond, acting as if he didn’t want to see Lance, looking down at his phone, and headed in the direction from which he came.

Watching Norman’s departing figure, Lance smiled knowingly; he knew the guy would definitely show up.

After parting ways, Lance went to the lounge to meet with colleagues. After some casual conversation, he followed the middle-aged man to an empty ballroom on the third floor.

This ballroom wasn’t part of the evening’s events. It was a personal arrangement by Lance to set up a romantic proposal venue. However, the male lead in this proposal might not be him.