Chapter 44

"My work is all over the place, so it's more convenient if you move in. Although you're officially an assistant, I don't have an agent, so you'll actually be doing the work of an agent," Winnie said, her tone casual yet patient. "Let's try it out first, and if you don't adapt, we can adjust." Wendy's family had bought her a spacious apartment in LA—over 300 square yards, located in a top-tier downtown building. It featured an intelligent, fully remote home system that could adjust the indoor humidity to 53% regardless of the weather, and it even had 24-hour personal service from Eric. Her smile stiffened, and her lips twitched. She had already started regretting her decision. Once things were settled, Yulia enthusiastically showed her to her room. "Look, isn't it huge? I told you, this bed is super comfortable." Wendy glanced around but noticed there was no separate bathtub. Her days of relaxing baths were over. From now on, she'd have to live a careful, frugal life—only to splurge on a six-star suite during her rare vacations for some revenge spending. Once Yulia left, Wendy flopped onto the bed and texted Van in complaint: It's all your fault. I had a perfectly good home, and now I have to live with someone else. Among the towering glass buildings of the bustling city, a Maybach smoothly sped by, leaving a sleek black trail. Van, sitting in the back seat, had just finished a phone call. "There's been contact from L.A., but I haven't had time to meet yet," he said, his face carrying a gentle smile, his tone unusually soft. "Don't worry about me. You should check on your little son filming in the highlands to see if he's suffering from altitude sickness." After a brief pause, the person on the other end of the line said something, and Van thought for a moment and continued, "As for the marriage alliance, it's not something I'm considering for now." He smirked slightly, his tone detached. "Tell Gary that my coming to L.A. is already my biggest concession. Don't interfere with my marriage, or the conversation is over." Eric couldn't help but glance at him through the rearview mirror. In the past two years, the father-son relationship had deteriorated rapidly. The person Gary had watched grow up no longer possessed the gentleness and kindness he once had. After hanging up the phone, the atmosphere in the car was noticeably tense. Van closed his eyes, his furrowed brow pressed against his mounting frustration. "Your mother has it tough too," Eric advised. "She's helping you find a proper match for a daughter-in-law—one with good character, appearance, and family background. It wouldn't hurt to make some time to meet her." Van pulled out a cigarette, rubbing his temples with one hand while resting his arm on the car's center console. With his eyes closed, his lashes cast a faint, bluish shadow beneath his eyes. He was utterly exhausted. After a few moments of smoking, he said, "You know whether I have time or not." Eric chuckled and teased, "Well, even just a dinner would do. At the very least, you could grab some afternoon tea. You managed to spend seven hours eating with Miss Loxley, didn't you? How'd you find time for that?" Although Eric was officially Van's driver, he was more like an elder and family member. Van had been sent to study in the UK at the age of 10, and it was Eric who had taken care of everything for him, so their relationship was very close, with little they couldn't talk about. Van smoked halfway through the cigarette, and at Eric's comment, he gave a dry chuckle, silently expressing his frustration. He opened his phone and happened to see a message from Wendy. His cousin had vented to him, but he completely ignored her distress and only asked: How is she? Wendy's response was completely off-topic: She's nice, very approachable. Van typed a response: "That's not what I asked," but after a brief pause, he deleted it. He agreed to let Wendy become Winnie's assistant, mostly because he could see that Wendy was eager to try it out, and also because Winnie really needed someone like her. Keeping smart people around can be dangerous unless they are trustworthy. Compared to the unknown candidates for Winnie's future roles, Wendy's trustworthiness outweighed everything. However, Van had no intention of letting Wendy know about his interactions with Winnie. He opened Winnie's SnapChat, noticing that her username had been changed to "Winnie, working from now on." "When did you have dinner with Miss Loxley?" Van asked. Eric, caught off guard, answered, "Five days ago." Van didn't respond directly, but his fingers, resting on his lap, tapped lightly, his brow furrowed in what seemed to be displeasure. If he counted the days, the last time he had been in contact with Winnie was already four days ago. Since that night of drunkenness, she hadn't reached out to him again. Winnie decided that from now on, she would never contact him again. She would act as if she didn't know better, pretending to be foolish, forever indebted to him, carrying his favor and obligation in her life. These past few days, she had been preparing for a role in a movie about a wife separated from her husband during a time of war, forced to hide and assume a false identity to avoid the artillery. She wrote letters to her husband, and the monologues she had to perform required great skill. Meanwhile, Wendy had handed over her tasks to Yulia, and now she had to handle business, coordinate with the styling team for two events next month, and schedule a shoot for the magazine's cover for the upcoming season. Wendy had never worked such a disorganized job before. Every day, she moved her laptop to the rooftop to soak in the sun, occasionally lifting her head to listen to Winnie rehearse. It made her heart stir with flashes of emotion. Winnie, so delicate and vase-like, seemed to unleash a flood of energy within her when she acted, as if her body had a power like a raging river. They also ate together, with Yulia preparing the meals. Wendy was surprised at how good Yulia's cooking was. Normally, after work, she would order from a hotel, eating the tasteless, lifeless meals that had long made her lose any craving for real food. But Yulia's cooking reignited her longing for the simple, homely flavors of street food. Winnie preferred to eat in the courtyard, sometimes with flowers falling into her plate. The sunlight was intense, and this wasn't the first time Wendy had been dazzled by the sparkle of Winnie's ring. The carelessness with which Winnie wore that ring almost made Wendy think it was fake. But she couldn't have been mistaken—it was a real sapphire, with a one-carat diamond sitting next to it, looking like a tiny pebble in comparison. This completely shifted Wendy's perception of the earnings of movie stars. She knew that, even if it were someone like Paris, to buy a ring like that, he'd have to get permission from his family first. "Winnie, can I borrow your ring for a while?" As usual, it was Yulia who had the courage to ask, blinking her eyes with a smile. "Sure." Winnie's tone was indifferent as she casually took off the ring and tossed it to her. Yulia clumsily caught it with both hands, her heart nearly stopping. "Oh my god, my legs just went weak." Winnie shot her a glance and said, "Be ambitious." Yulia's fingers were thicker, and the ring got stuck at the second joint. "Who gave this to you?" she asked, holding the ring up to the sunlight. "If I keep focusing sunlight through it and reflect it onto the fallen leaves, will the pile of leaves catch fire?" Winnie answered casually, "I bought it myself." "You're lying. You're way too stingy to buy something like this for yourself. A moissanite would be more your style," Yulia teased with a hum. "I know. Mr. Marlowe gave it to you." "Pfft!" Wendy accidentally sprayed ice water out of her mouth. The other two stared at her. Yulia asked, "Why are you so worked up?" Wendy took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure before quickly changing the topic. "I-Is Mr. Marlowe the Van Marlowe I'm thinking of?" "No." Winnie's cold voice interrupted her. Yulia looked at her curiously, then leaned in toward Wendy. "You know him too?" Wendy had just choked a moment ago, so she felt a bit guilty now. "Uh, yeah, I know a little." "Is he a good person?" "Yeah, he's pretty nice," Wendy said awkwardly. She was worried that, in the business world, no one dared challenge him. The level of respect he commanded wasn't about whether he was a good person or not—it was more about the power dynamics. Even asking for a gift or acting cute had to be carefully thought out in advance. "Does he have a girlfriend?" Yulia asked. Winnie glanced at Wendy sideways, then looked away, casually picking up some food. "I don't think so. He used to." Winnie put a bite of lasagna in her mouth, chewed slowly, and kept a neutral expression. "Is she pretty?" Yulia asked again.