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7

As I looked at the German man and watched him walk away, I sighed. Perhaps I had judged him too quickly before getting to know him, but I couldn't help it.

I didn't like bosses, but I knew I wouldn't be able to start a shop and have enough to survive with my son, although I had never tried...

I looked at my little one and that small smile showing his tiny teeth, I loved it. And what can I say about his dimples...

I swallowed my pride, and before Stefan walked away further, I said:

"Mr. Schmidt, would you like to have dinner with us?"

The German, who didn't expect that, stopped as if his feet had become glued to the ground. Was I really being kind to him?

He turned slightly puzzled, but to not show it or let me know, he gave me a faint smile.

I had pursed my lips. For the first time, I saw a smile that didn't portray him as a relentless casanova. That smile was genuine, and perhaps even affectionate.

I couldn't help but become entranced while looking at him. He had never shown that smi
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