Next One Is a Babe

Chapter 167

Isabelle came with Old Mr. Bailey, and the two of them were standing together as Isabelle stared solemnly at the pictures on the screen with a faintly anguished expression on her face. Even though Sophia had looked at her for a long time before retracting her gaze, John didn’t see Isabelle, his attention focused on the host.

The host droned on and on in explaining the pictures before talking about the theme for the night—a charity dinner of sorts to help the children in remote mountainous areas to leave the mountains and see the world outside.

Sophia was rather moved, but she just worried to channel help through such charity organizations. The host’s voice and expression are flat as he talks about these pictures, not even a hint of emotional resonance to be found. So, how can he possibly put himself in these children’s shoes and consider their needs? She exhaled heavily, a touch distressed. I wonder how much of the money donated will actually be used to help them. These companies have made the middlemen who are taking advantage robust and prosperous instead.

After the host had finished speaking, applause and discussions reigned below the stage. Many people lamented that these children were pitiful, thus they deserved help, but no one knew whether they were truly speaking from the heart or merely putting on a show. At this time, Sophia shifted a fraction. Tilting his head, John looked at her. “What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?”

Sophia hissed. “No, my shoes are just pinching the heel a bit.”

John looked down at her feet, but he couldn’t see her shoes since the evening gown was too long. Well, news shoes normally do pinch the heel. After pondering for a moment, John suggested, “How about I take you to the second floor to sit for a while.”

Sophia hurriedly nodded. “Sure, sure.” Anyway, I really don’t feel like being a spectator to this hypocritical scene anymore.

John then took her arm, and they both went up to the second floor. At present, there was also quite a crowd on the second floor that was about the same size as the first floor. The only difference was the presence of plenty of small rooms furnished with a sofa and coffee table on the second floor, probably for the use of those who bumped into a prospective collaboration partner during a banquet so that they could discuss the details right then and there.

Leading Sophia to a room, John closed the door behind them. Sophia then plopped onto the sofa and slipped off her shoes. The pinching was indeed rather severe, for her heel was now abraded. Men might not understand this feeling, but shoes pinching the heel was truly an unpleasant feeling. While it wasn’t fatal, the pain was fairly unbearable. John came over and took a look. “Does this need to be bandaged?”

Sophia chortled. “Such a paltry wound doesn’t require a bandage.” She stared at her foot for a long while before suggesting tentatively, “Why don’t you get me a Band-Aid?”

Having never known that a Band-Aid could be used for this purpose, John was taken aback, but he then nodded. “Okay. Wait for me here.”

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