Chapter 36
The hallway was quieter and dim, filled with soft music from the hall and murmurs of some guests outside the hall.
Amelia, in her hotel staff uniform, walked quickly to deliver the wine as the champagne glasses wobbled on the tray with every heavy step of hers. Amelia's black hair was parted into two French braids as her grip tightened on the rim of the tray, her eyes forward to complete her work.
Was it possible to trip oneself? That was exactly what happened. Amelia missed a footing and before she knew it—"Oh—" she gasped, her eyes widened in shock—the tray trembled, lunged forward.
One thing Amelia wasn't good at was trying to get things done quickly, not within her pace. There was always bound to be failure. And that was what was happening right now.
Mathew, coming out from the hall with a triumphant smirk and a pleased expression on his face, was happy with the little jab he hit Aaron with in the room. He couldn't help but do a mental jubilation in his head.
