"This vase, hmm…"
"This painting is nice, but it doesn't match the style of the living room…"
"Have you considered redoing the walls?"
As soon as he entered, Charles Wood, with his hands behind his back, began inspecting the place.
His voice was deep and elegant, rich like a vinyl record. Even though he was rambling on, his slow, deliberate speech and sincere tone lacked any sense of aggression. His words flowed easily into the ears, effortlessly capturing attention, complented by his appearance and attire, exuding a natural authority.
This, too, is a form of charm.
A word popped into Anson's mind:
**Charlatan.**
Okay, maybe it's not quite appropriate to use that word to describe his father. But that's the first word that ca to mind.
Anson didn't pay much attention to Charles's ramblings and instead looked down at the card in his hand. Opening it, he found—
**A bar of dark chocolate.**
Anson felt exasperated and imdiately began eating it:
**Smooth. Rich. The slight bitterness blended perfectly with the full-bodied sweetness. It spread lightly and delicately across his tongue.**
Charles noticed the faint smile creeping up on Anson's face and smiled, "I knew you'd like it."
Leaning against the wall of the living room entrance, Anson asked, "Why are you suddenly here? It can't just be to help redecorate my apartnt, can it?"
Charles remained composed, "Oh, I got a new job here in Los Angeles. Your mother said I should drop by and visit you."
"Oh, my God, how long has it been since we last saw each other?"
Anson took another bite of the chocolate, "Not so long that you wouldn't recognize ." Seeing Anson's head of blonde hair, Charles wasn't surprised and didn't ask any questions. "So, what's the deal with this job in Los Angeles?"
"Yes, Johnny Depp, do you know him? He bought a mansion in Beverly Hills and doesn't like the decor. He wants to redo everything. Darren recomnded , so I need to et with him first."
Anson didn't respond—
His instincts told him sothing was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Based on his mories, Charles wasn't the type to show up unexpectedly. Having spent years in high society, he knew well that no one appreciated such surprises.
Because surprises often ant intrusion, breaking the daily routine in a forceful way, sotis even uncovering secrets, sothing the upper class particularly disliked.
But here Charles was, showing up without any prior notice.
Sothing was strange.
Anson chewed on the chocolate, quietly observing Charles.
Bathed in Anson's gaze, Charles remained calm, a slight smile curling his lips. "Wait, did I choose the wrong ti? Is there a special guest upstairs?"
Anson raised an eyebrow slightly, "You can go upstairs and check for yourself."
Still not sensing anything amiss, Anson thought maybe it was just because he had just finished recording the album and his body clock, still out of sync, was making him paranoid.
"How long are you staying in Los Angeles, and where are you staying?"
Anson temporarily set aside his doubts and assud the role of host.
"Tea? Coffee? Or… sothing stronger?"
Charles smiled, "Are you sure? Can you even manage that? Back at ho, everything was handed to you. Now you have to do it all yourself."
Anson shrugged slightly, "No choice. That's the life of a struggling actor in Hollywood. In fact, I've beco quite handy. Luca would be impressed."
Charles watched as Anson walked into the kitchen, "Coffee will be fine. So, I'm about to taste a cup of handmade coffee by you?"
"Hand-ground coffee. Although it was all ground by Chris, it's still handmade. Oh, Chris is my roommate. He went to the gym early this morning."
As he spoke, he busied himself with the preparations.
Just as he placed the kettle on the stove, there was another knock at the door.
Charles, sitting in the living room, looked over, "Need to get the door?"
Anson waved him off and walked towards the door, muttering to himself.
"What's going on this morning? Could it be Edgar? He didn't ntion coming over."
*Creak.*
"Surprise!"
Opening the door, he found an elegant woman standing there with a smile, a suitcase at her feet, holding a bouquet of golden tulips. The golden sunlight flowed along her hair, outlining the contours of her face, her movents full of crisp and refreshing energy.
"Mom?"
Standing before him was none other than Nora Wood.
**The second unexpected guest.**
Anson blinked, "Dad just arrived. Why didn't you two co together?"
"Your father?" Nora was surprised. "Isn't your father in Seattle?"
From the living room ca a voice, "Nora?"
Nora looked inside, "Charles?"
The scene was a bit chaotic.
Anson grabbed Nora's suitcase and stepped aside, "Mom, co in first, and we can talk."
Looking outside, Anson searched for any sign of paparazzi.
Anson knew that if the dia wanted to, they could easily dig up information on the Wood family. The Wood family was also ntally prepared for this, able to calmly and confidently handle any potential exposure.
But honestly, Anson didn't want their lives to be disturbed by paparazzi.
Work and life are, after all, two different things.
Nora, full of surprise, looked at Charles, "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming to Los Angeles until next week."
Charles replied, "I haven't decided whether to take this job yet. If it officially starts, it'll be next week. But I wanted to et with the client first to decide. It turned out Johnny Depp said he's only available these two days. Next week, he's heading to the Caribbean for vacation, so I ca early."
"And you, did you just get off the plane?"
Nora nodded, "Yes, the Getty has a project they want to discuss with . I thought I'd stop by and see Anson. I ca straight here from the airport."
As they exchanged words, the fragnted truth began to erge.
Anson carried the suitcase inside, "Though the place doesn't look big, believe , it's spacious inside. You can pick any corner to continue your conversation instead of standing in the doorway."
With a little joke, he drew Charles and Nora's attention, and they walked towards the living room, smiles naturally appearing on their faces.
Turning around, Anson noticed them exchanging glances, both surprised to run into each other there.
It seems this was just a coincidence…?
Anson joked, "If Luca shows up at the door now, things will get interesting."
Like magic—
*Knock, knock.*
Just as Anson finished speaking, soone actually knocked on the door.
The air froze for a mont.
Anson looked at Charles and Nora, and they, equally stunned, looked back at him.
Anson asked, "Are you sure it's not Luca outside?"
Nora quickly shook her head, "How would we know who's outside?"
Anson's eyes narrowed slightly; sothing didn't feel right.
Though it was just a hunch, every cell in Anson's body sensed that sothing was off.
This ti, without saying much, Anson carefully observed Charles and Nora's expressions before returning to the door and opening it.
"Hey, Anson!"
That smiling face—who else could it be but Lucas Wood!
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