"Why are you doing that? Men don’t love long nails," Jarod comments.
"I don’t care what men love, I’m in love with my cute long nails," Claire retorts.
"They are not cute!" he interjects abruptly.
"Yes, they are!" Claire insists stubbornly, scowling at Jarod.
"What if your man wants you to keep short nails?" Jarod asks, sitting in front of her with an examining gaze.
"There is no man in the whole world for whom I would cut my nails!" Claire passionately declares with a firm and unwavering tone.
***
In the elite district of the Capital City, a dark green, roofless McLaren F1, gleaming like green goldenstone, glides smoothly along the street. A charming young blond man, around 26 or 27, parks the car in front of a cozy coffee café. With a delightful view, he steps out of the car. The strikingly alluring, adorable blond man with bright blue eyes strolls indulgently toward the coffee café, exuding the aura of being the Universe's only cherished son—spoiled, satisfied, and a touch arrogant, as if his presence is a gift to the entire world. He takes off his green-tinted sunglasses and slips them into the chest pocket of his light, yellow shirt.
"Oh, Carl! Finally, I’m blessed to see your face, my boy! I almost forgot how you look, but with each passing year, you’re becoming more handsome," Mr. Tristan exclaims warmly.
"Hello, Mr. Tristan. How are you holding up?" Carl replies with a confident grin.
"All well on my end, Carl. The usual mix of business, travel, and my little hobbies... How about you?" Mr. Tristan inquires, settling into his seat as their conversation continues.
"Much the same for me. Jetting off overseas for work and squeezing in some hobbies when time allows," Carl replies nonchalantly, with a hint of mischievousness in his tone.
"I shudder to think about the kind of hobbies you're into; it's probably best not to know," Mr. Tristan remarks half-jokingly, as birds have chirped some gossip about Carl’s 'hobbies.'
"Hahaha," Carl's infectious beam lights up the area, casting a bright glow all around. Mr. Tristan leans closer to Carl and asks with curiosity, "And what about settling down, Carl? Have you found a suitable lady to make your bride yet?"
"Of course not! There's no woman on earth worthy of being my wife," Carl responds with a glint in his eyes, maintaining an air of superiority.
***
With her nails neatly shaped, Claire smiles contentedly, exuding pure joy as if she were the universe's only daughter. She closes her eyes and leans back on the sofa with her sparkling beauty. Jarod, mesmerized, gazes at her, feeling powerless in her presence with each passing moment.
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