“To provide for you and our child!” He said, smiling widely.
Pursing my lips, I returned it to him and said, “I don’t need money. Grandpa left quite a lot of money to me and I’ve saved up over these few years of working in Fuller Corporation. I don’t have much to spend on, so I don’t need it!”
He paid for most of my living expenses, such as food, accommodation and transport. Furthermore, as I was not in the habit of shopping nor did I have sudden impulses to buy things, I rarely spent any money.
When I stuffed the file back to him, he frowned. “You don’t want to spend my money? Or are you just unwilling to?”
I was rendered speechless. Is there even a difference between these two questions?
Looking at him, I replied, “None of the above. I don’t really spend money that frequently. Aren’t you planning to expand your business? Just use these funds for it. It’ll be useless to leave them with me.”
He frowned unhappily. Just when he was about to say something, his phone rang.
I got up from his lap. When he picked up the call, I realized that it was from Jared.
“What’s up, Jared?”
After placing the file back in the drawer, I left the study room instead of listening in to their conversation.
A short while later, Ashton hurriedly rushed out. It seemed like he needed to attend to something urgent.
As Molly and Mrs. Eriksen refused to let me leave the house, I baked some pastries with them out of boredom.
When the doorbell rang, Mrs. Eriksen was rushing to take the pastries out of the oven and Molly’s hands were still covered with flour.
As I was the only one idling around, I walked to the living room and opened the door. I was taken aback when I saw Marcus standing there.
Why did he come here?
“Hello, Mr. White!” I greeted him with a smile.
He raised his eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Of course I am! Please come in.” I led him into the living room.
As Mrs. Eriksen and Molly did not know him, they merely greeted him politely.
We sat down opposite each other in the living room.
Feeling confused, I could not help but ask, “Why are you here, Mr. White?”
Instead of answering immediately, he passed a box to me before explaining, “Your phone was damaged after you dropped into the pond. I took out the SIM card and inserted it into a new phone.”
I was stunned. Suddenly, I recalled how he followed me last night just to return my phone to me.
However, I…
At that thought, I could not help but blush and apologize, “I’m really sorry about what happened last night. I assumed that you were… I’m sorry!”
He raised his eyebrows. “What did you assume?”
After a slight pause, he smirked. “That I want to take advantage of you?”
I quickly shook my head and denied, “It’s not that.” How could a handsome man like him possibly be interested in a pregnant woman like me?
I thought that he resented me and Ashton because of what happened to Sally, so…
Mrs. Eriksen laid the pastries out and said, “Letty, I’ll accompany you to the office later and bring some pastries to Mr. Ashton. If he knows that you baked them yourself, he’ll definitely be very happy.”
I smiled and did not respond. After all, I did not bake those pastries on my own—at the very most, I merely helped out.
She merely said that because she wanted my relationship with Ashton to improve.
Hence, I did not say anything else.
Marcus glanced at Mrs. Eriksen and asked, “Can I take some home?”
I gaped in shock.
He did seem like someone who likes to eat pastries. I had visited the White family twice and the chefs there were all extremely skilled. Yet, I had never seen him eat any pastries. Why…
Mrs. Eriksen nodded and went to pack some pastries.
Surprised, I looked at Marcus and exclaimed, “So you like to eat pastries?”
He raised his eyebrow. “It won’t hurt if I eat some occasionally.”
He was not wrong.
After Mrs. Eriksen finished packing the pastries, Marcus stood up and prepared to leave. Looking at the phone he left behind, I could not help but say, “Mr. White, about the cost of the phone…”
“These pastries make up for it!” He lifted the bag of pastries and said, “We’re even now.”
With that, he left.
Mrs. Eriksen, who did not know him, watched him leave and asked me, “Who is he?”
“Marcus White. He’s Benjamin’s son.”
“I see!” She nodded as she mumbled to herself, “I don’t know him.”
I smiled, but did not elaborate further.
After packing some pastries up, Mrs. Eriksen held onto my arm and said, “If you send the pastries to Mr. Ashton personally, he’ll definitely be delighted.”
I did not know if he would be delighted, but one thing was for sure—he was probably very busy now.
I rarely visited the company’s office in K City. When I arrived at the building in a taxi, I could not help but be slightly surprised.
It was really showy of Ashton to have bought three magnificent skyscrapers right smack in the city center.
Crowds of people surged in and out of the building. Afraid that someone would bump into me, Mrs. Eriksen held onto my hand carefully and reminded me, “You must be careful!”
Soon, we arrived at the receptionist.
Despite calling for assistance twice, everyone ignored Mrs. Eriksen. The pretty receptionist was so busy dealing with the visitors that she dismissed Mrs. Eriksen a few times.
Frustrated, Mrs. Eriksen scolded, “Why can’t you tell us where the president’s office is? Why are you so unprofessional?”
