She pulled it out and glanced down. It was Marlon Marshall calling.
She answered right away. "Hello?"
"Where did you go? I didn’t see you when I got ho," Marlon Marshall’s voice said from the other end of the line.
"You’re ho just as early tonight as you were yesterday." ’I can guess why he’s ho so early,’ she thought. ’Carol Young must have co back with him.’
"Where are you?" he asked again.
"At my brother’s house. What is it?" Jean Grant sounded weary.
"Hurry back."
"Okay."
She hung up the phone and looked at Ethan Ellsworth in front of her, saying, "I should get going."
Ethan Ellsworth looked up. "Alright."
Watching her figure disappear through the door, he leaned back on the sofa and pressed a hand to his forehead. His mood suddenly plumted for no reason at all.
At that mont, he felt that he wasn’t as happy as he had been back on set.
’Where on earth did that happiness run off to?’
His chest felt heavy, tight.
He walked into the courtyard, sat on the swing, and looked up toward the fourth floor across the way. A figure was standing on the balcony there. Even from so far away, Ethan Ellsworth saw her, and she saw him. The distance between them sparked a flutter in his chest.
At that mont, a smile played on Ethan Ellsworth’s lips.
He pulled out his phone and sent a ssage on MSN, "Idiot, if you don’t go to sleep soon, soone’s going to knock on your door."
A mont later,
she replied: "Boss Ellsworth, you’re welco to be the one knocking."
He glanced over again. At that very mont, he saw her smiling. The smile was a bit blurry, but he definitely saw it.
The door opened softly. Leon Lynch paused at the entrance to room 804. The hallway was silent. His eyes fixed on the door to room 803, and he stood there for a mont.
Holding his laptop, he then closed his door.
And left the hotel.
His car flew down the highway, fast as his turbulent mood.
The film had wrapped tonight. A lot of people had already left, and he was the last one to know.
Ever since Quentin Grant had been by her side, he hadn’t had a single chance to get close. And no matter how unhappy he was about it, there was nothing he could do.
The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he beca. Leon Lynch drove for nearly two hours, only arriving ho a little after ten.
He got out of the car and walked into the courtyard. The butler saw him and bead. "Young Master, what brings you ho?"
He shot the butler a sideways glance. "What? Can’t I co back to my own ho?"
The butler imdiately slapped himself lightly on the cheek. "Oh, forgive my clumsy tongue. What I an is, Young Master, you’ve returned at a bit of an inopportune ti."
Leon Lynch stopped dead in his tracks, his expression hardening. "Who’s here?"
The butler lowered his voice. "Well, while you’ve been away, Miss Maeve Sutton from the Sutton Family has been visiting almost every day. And she’s still here now."
"Maeve Sutton?"
The butler nodded. "Yes."
"I see."
Leon Lynch walked to the door and strode inside. Sure enough, he saw Maeve Sutton sitting on the sofa, chatting with his mother.
Seeing him, Mrs. Lynch was clearly delighted.
"Son, you’re back?"
"Yeah."
"Perfect timing. Miss Sutton is about to head ho. Why don’t you see her out?"
Leon Lynch’s tone was dismissive. "She’s perfectly capable of getting ho on her own. Why should I see her out? I’m not going to. I’m exhausted and I’m going to bed."
He turned to head for the stairs, but Maeve Sutton called out anxiously, "Leon!"
He spun around, his eyes as cold as ice. "Please call Leon Lynch. We’re not that familiar."
Maeve Sutton was left speechless. "Can I speak with you alone?"
Leon Lynch couldn’t be bothered to humor her. "Of course not. And don’t co here anymore. It doesn’t matter how many tis you visit, I will never like you."
"You haven’t even given it a chance. How do you know you won’t like ?"
He turned and headed upstairs, completely ignoring her.
Maeve Sutton stood there biting her lip, feeling a bitter resentnt. ’I’ve been so persistent,’ she thought. ’Shouldn’t that be enough to lt a heart of stone?’
Mrs. Lynch sighed. "He still hasn’t gotten over that vixen. It will just take ti. Here, let have the driver take you ho, alright?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Lynch."
Mrs. Lynch bead. "Nonsense. I should be thanking you for keeping company for so long."
After seeing Maeve Sutton off, Mrs. Lynch paced back and forth in the living room.
Finally, she hurried upstairs and knocked on Leon Lynch’s door.
"Son, it’s ."
"Asleep," a lazy voice replied from inside the room.
"I need to talk to you. Open the door."
Leon Lynch had no choice but to open the door. "Go on."
"Let ask you, Leon, do you really intend to go on wasting your life like this? You don’t go to the company, and you spend all day chasing after that woman. What future is there in that?! I saw the news tonight. She belongs to Quentin Grant. You need to give up on this idea."
"And?"
"And then you drop it for good."
Leon Lynch pushed Mrs. Lynch out of the room. "I get it. I’m dead tired. You should get to sleep too. You’re getting more crow’s feet."
The door closed. Before she left, Mrs. Lynch added one last instruction. "Listen to your mother. It’s ti you went back to work."
"I know."
Lying in bed, Leon Lynch found it impossible to sleep.
A montary lapse in judgnt had sent them down paths that grew ever more distant. That was the perfect way to describe them.
From last year to now, two people who were supposed to be husband and wife had been unable to even get close to each other.
**
Jean Grant returned ho.
Marlon Marshall was sitting on the sofa, while Mrs. Marshall and Carol Zimr were chatting and watching television. Jean felt like an outsider in her own ho.
"You don’t usually go to your brother’s place, do you? It’s the middle of the night. Why the sudden visit?"
Jean Grant replied, "We live so close, we should look out for each other. My brother invited over for dinner."
Marlon Marshall nodded, then asked hesitantly, "Did you... say anything else to your brother?"
Jean Grant knew what he was getting at and retorted, "Like what?"
"Nothing. I was just asking... you didn’t tell your brother that Carol is staying with us, did you?"
’So that’s what it was.’
Jean Grant lowered her eyes for a mont, then looked up with a smile. "My brother knows Carol’s sister had her accident at our house. Besides, why would I bring it up for no reason?"
Marlon Marshall nodded. "You’re pregnant. We should get so rest."
Jean Grant glanced down at the padding stuffed under her clothes to fake a belly and replied casually, "Okay."
On the surface, they still looked like a loving couple, but a huge chasm had already opened up between them. They were both just desperately keeping up the pretense.
"Jean, take off your top."
"I’ll leave it on. It’s a little chilly when I wake up in the morning." She lay down, her back to him.
Marlon Marshall’s hand reached for her. "Honey..."
Jean Grant knocked his hand away. "No. The baby’s been kicking a lot lately. What if you hurt him?"
Marlon Marshall actually turned her to face him. "I won’t."
The image of him with Carol Young flashed in Jean Grant’s mind, and her stomach churned. "I’m so sleepy. I’m going to sleep."
Seeing how unwilling she was, Marlon Marshall muttered resentfully, "Way to kill the mood."
Jean Grant didn’t say a word, just closed her eyes.
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