It was reminiscent of the time they'd crossed paths in a shopping mall, and Bettie had expertly executed the same maneuver.

With an affable smile, Lance offered a polite apology, “My apologies, I won't commit such a discourteous act."

The subtle implication lingered that it was Bettie who had breached the bounds of decorum.

Bettie let out a derisive snort.

"Now that you've said your hellos, can't you just take your leave?"

Lance, undeterred, countered with an attempt at charm.

"It must be a twist of fate, letting us cross paths in this vast city. How about a drink together?"

Bettie fixed him with a withering look and chose to remain silent, expressing her disdain through her silence.

Sabrina couldn't help but equate Lance's shamelessness to Tyrone’s.

Noticing the lack of response, Lance arched an eyebrow and inquired, “What's the matter? Why the rush to shoo me away? Worried that you'll be caught by your blind date?"

"I'm afraid you might make him sick," Bettie retorted.

Lance, unfazed, continued, “Well, I also happen to have an appointment with my blind date here, but I'm not worried that she'd find you repulsive. We can wait together and make introductions."

Bettie found herself momentarily dumbfounded, and Sabrina was equally caught off guard.

Sabrina was left utterly flabbergasted by his words.

Was he seriously suggesting an introduction of his date to his ex-girlfriend?

Had Lance picked up these peculiar customs during his years abroad?

Bettie, however, recognized the underlying intent. Lance aimed to disgust her.

Her chest tightened as her anger surged. But then, in a surprising turn, Lance piped up, “Oh, by the way, the matchmaker mentioned that my blind date's last name is Ramirez. Could it be you?"

Bettie's shock was palpable.

She took a deep breath and firmly denied, "No."