Mason tilted his head back, exhaling a slow stream of gray smoke. He glanced at Leslie, saying, "I'm not a comedian."

Leslie choked on the smoke. He was about to ask about Zoe when Gabriela approached with a glass of red wine.

She had dressed up meticulously for the occasion. She wore a dress that exuded femininity, and every move deliberately showcased her womanly charm.

Seating herself next to Mason, she spoke in a familiar tone, "Mason, why didn't you bring Zoe along? Since you two got married, it seems like you haven't taken her out much. Is it because you don't see me as being worthy of meeting her, or is it that you don't find your wife attractive?"

This remark contained a hint of flirtation and a dash of curiousity.

While she spoke, her body was almost leaning against Mason's shoulder, the soft, fair skin rubbing against his crisp white shirt. Gabriela believed that no man could resist such subtle temptation.

Leslie pretended not to hear, taking a sip of his drink.

Mason