Neither Jenny nor Stanley grew up in normal families. Figuring out what others were thinking was the
first thing they had learned.
It was difficult to know what Stanley was thinking. But if it was easier to figure him out when it was
related to Summer.
Summer was not a complicated woman. Soft yet determined, she couldn't be simpler.
Stanley called Summer at such a moment simply because he wanted to see her.
After leaving the hospital, Summer called Leonardo.
"I'm going to Tip Top Media."
After she made it clear to Leonardo, Leonardo did not stop her from visiting Stanley. He even asked the
driver to send her there.
Leonardo's temper was much better now. He was no longer as domineering and irritable as he had
been. Instead, he was used to confessing everything to Summer now.
Leonardo was very quiet on the other side of the phone. "I see. Just go get Carl when you're there. The
receptionists at the front desk have been informed. They know you."
The moment the driver saw Summer coming over, he opened the door of the car. Summer bent over
and got into it, "How did you inform them?"
He hadn't mentioned that she was his wife, had he?
Leonardo chuckled as something occurred to him. "The famous Screenwriter Summer Jarrett is going
to be Mr. Carl's distinguished guest."
"I think you're making fun of me." Summer couldn't help laughing upon hearing his answer.
"I didn’t." Leonardo's tone turned serious, "Not bad."
Summer knew he was referring to her script, but she asked on purpose, "Not bad?"
"I’m in a meeting." Leonardo did not continue speaking. He sounded like he was going to hang up at
any moment.
Summer didn't want to let him go just like this. She suppressed her laughter and said, "I see. You mean
my script is not bad, right? No wonder you sneaked into the study to watch it secretly in the middle of
the night instead of coming back to sleep."
The other end of the phone fell into a deathly silence.
He said nothing, but Summer could imagine what Leonardo’s face looked like now. He must be hiding
his unease with a poker face.
She called his bluff deliberately.
After a long time, Leonardo coughed and asked her uncomfortably, "How do you know?"
"Because I am Mrs. Emerson. How can I not know what Mr. Emerson is doing at home?"
Leonardo was silent again.
"Go on with your meeting now. Let's have lunch together later."
Summer hung up the phone with a big smile on her face.
It was rare for Summer to get on Leonardo's nerves. If only they had been talking face-to-face, then
she could witness the look on his face when he was caught red-handed but still pretended to be
indifferent.
The older Leonardo got, the more childish he became. And the more adorable he was.
Leonardo hung up the phone and put it aside.
He glanced at the executives who were sitting opposite him to report on their work and said coldly,
"Let’s continue."
One of the executives asked carefully, "Mr. Emerson, are we going to have a meeting later?"
Leonardo had just told Summer on the phone that he was going to have a meeting.
Leonardo eyed him and said callously, "If you turned your energy wasted on eavesdropping into your
work, you wouldn't have done such a terrible job."
The senior executives felt a little aggrieved. It was not that he intended to eavesdrop on Leonardo's
conversation. It was Leonardo who told them to wait here. Why was he the one to be blamed when he
overheard him?
"We'll have a meeting in the afternoon. You guys can leave now." Leonardo lowered his eyes to browse
the other documents, signaling that they were dismissed.
The executives gaped at each other, unable to believe that Leonardo was so gentle. If it were in the
past, he would have smashed something long ago.
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