Chapter 440 What Kind of Fun
"Let's go back to the Larson Villa," Anne suggested.
"It's too late, we'll disturb their rest," Willard replied.
Anne gritted her teeth. "Then let's go to your house. It's big enough that we can each have our own room without bothering each other."
Willard took a leisurely sip of his tea. "That wouldn't be appropriate."
Anne's temper flared. "Then a hotel!"
"There are too many people watching me in Seaside City. I'd prefer to avoid misunderstandings," Willard countered.
Elissa and Hope exchanged knowing glances.
They both recognized what they were witnessing. They had previously thought Willard was simply manipulative, constantly deceiving Anne with various tactics.
Now they realized it was worse than that. The man was absolutely shameless, capable of saying anything with a straight face.
What they couldn't understand was Willard's strategy. He had opportunities to be alone with Anne, potentially explaining things and resolving their issues. Yet he consistently refused.
If he found it so inconvenient and wouldn't discuss anything, why not just get divorced? But he wouldn't agree to that either.
Elissa, despite her extensive experience with men, couldn't figure him out. This was truly a calculating man who had spent years in positions of power.
"Willard!" Anne slammed her hand on the table. "Just answer me this: are you coming back to Seaside City with me or not?"
Willard glanced at her hand, but Anne pushed his hand away when he reached for hers.
"You're the one insisting I return," he said calmly. "Whatever happens afterward will be your responsibility."
Anne, still fuming, heard only that he agreed to return and quickly consented.
Elissa couldn't intervene in time. She realized his intentions now - this manipulative man clearly wanted to return but was maneuvering things so he could absolve himself of responsibility later. Anne was too young to see through his scheme.
"It's getting late. Why don't we wait until morning? You can return just as easily then," Elissa suggested, gripping Anne's shoulder firmly as a warning. "The Peterson family owns hotels. You can stay at one, no problem."
Willard paused mid-sip but said nothing.
Anne thanked Elissa for her kindness but explained she wouldn't feel at ease unless they returned to Seaside City immediately. Who knew what excuse Willard might come up with by morning to disappear again? At least in Seaside City, she could keep tabs on him.
"Elissa, I just head back," Anne insisted.
When Elissa tried to say more, Anne cut her off. "Today was meant to celebrate you. Let's not discuss unpleasant matters. You should eat—the baby needs nourishment too."
Elissa had already said and done all she could. She didn't want to interfere too much.
She finally said, "Call me anytime if you need something or just want to talk. I'm available now."
Anne didn't want to burden Elissa further. After all, Francis and Elissa were newlyweds—they hardly needed to listen to her complaints. Her relationship with Elissa wasn't the same as Elissa's with Hope. They had met relatively recently, and Elissa had already been incredibly kind to listen to her troubles for so long.
"Let's eat. I'm starving too," Anne said.
No one drank alcohol, so dinner proceeded quickly. Elissa occasionally lightened the mood. The three men across the table, sensing the delicate atmosphere, spoke little beyond work matters.
After dinner, Elissa accompanied Anne to the airport, where she would depart with Willard.
"Let's meet again soon," Elissa said, embracing Anne.
Anne nodded and proceeded through security.
Once the pair was out of sight, Elissa, arm in arm with Hope, wondered aloud: "Strange that Willard didn't use his private jet. They actually bought tickets."
"It's in for maintenance," Francis explained.
Elissa acknowledged this with a murmur as she continued talking with Hope ahead of the men.
Francis looked exasperated.
Jerry teased him, "I can tell who wears the pants in your family."
Francis ignored him, as if Jerry had any more authority in his own home.
"Finn's keeping an eye on everything, which is reassuring. The finished clothes are ready, and Anne helped take photos. The promotional materials look great," Hope said.
"Finn's definitely reliable. It's just a shame I can't model for the second collection myself. I would've loved to wear those pieces—the patterns on the later designs are even more exquisite."
Hope glanced at her belly. "You're not showing yet, so you could still wear them. I've asked Finn to ship them over. I was in such a rush today because of the situation with Anne that I didn't bring them back with me. Once the package arrives, you can model them for photos."
Elissa sighed. "I wonder if Anne will be available in a few days to take my photos. I'd love her to shoot my maternity pictures too."
"Divorce or not, you just need to ask and she'll come. You two have become good friends. She told me she felt an instant connection with you and really likes you."
"I really like her too. It was like meeting an old friend—funny how these connections happen so naturally."
They continued chatting until they reached Tranquil Haven, where Hope waved goodbye.
Jerry followed Hope inside while Francis joined Elissa in her car.
He took her hand and asked, "Would you like to try finding your birth parents?"
Elissa hadn't considered it. After what happened with Ollie, she didn't want to go through something similar again. Now that she and Francis were married, she preferred to leave the past unexplored—better not to risk bringing any complications into his life.
"No, I'd rather not," she said simply.
Francis seemed to understand what she was thinking but didn't press the issue.
"Whatever you want," he said, though privately, he instructed Simon to discreetly look into it.
As soon as they got home, Elissa went to warm up Francis's medicine.
Francis was reluctant to drink it—it tasted awful. Coralie was generally pleasant to women but had little patience for men. She'd only agreed to treat him as a favor to Elissa, and there was a possibility she'd made his medicine deliberately unpleasant. After all, her experience with Yves had left her with a general distrust of men. She had some professional ethics, but they only went so far.
"Honey, I'm fine now. I don't need to drink this anymore," he protested.
"That won't do," Elissa said, boiling water and giving him a pointed look. "Ms. Bishop specifically said you need to complete the full course of treatment. It's only working temporarily—I noticed you still didn't eat fish tonight. You're still sensitive to the smell."
Francis tried to resist, but then she added with a meaningful tone, "Don't forget what Ms. Bishop said—I shouldn't be worrying too much in my condition."
Francis was left speechless.
The water boiled, and Elissa warmed the medicine before handing it to him.
Francis looked at her smile, thinking the bowl contained pure poison.
"Drink up," she urged.
Francis gritted his teeth and downed it in one gulp.
Before he could set the bowl down, he felt something sweet on his lips—a gentle milky flavor spreading across his tongue.
"That's your reward for being so brave," Elissa said.
Francis decided the medicine wasn't so bad after all. He put down the bowl and lifted her into his arms.
Elissa wrapped her arms around his neck and teased, "Remember, I'm not supposed to overexert myself."
Francis chuckled softly, but asked, "Want to watch a movie?"
"Yes!" Elissa replied enthusiastically.
Francis gently placed her on the couch, covered her with a blanket, found a comedy film, and cuddled up beside her to watch.
"You don't think Willard will try anything with Anne, do you?" Elissa suddenly asked.
"He won't," Francis replied confidently.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Willard isn't stupid. He wants to solve problems, not create new ones," Francis explained. "Unless a romantic rival appears to trigger his insecurities, making him emotionally unstable enough to act inappropriately with Anne. But don't worry, there won't be any rivals tonight."
When Elissa asked why, Francis explained that tonight was a rare opportunity.
Willard was indeed cherishing tonight's chance. He'd investigated Anne's potential suitors thoroughly and found only Ernest had any closeness with her. Tonight would be his opportunity to have a calm, reasonable conversation with Anne.
What he hadn't anticipated was the obstacle that awaited them after landing.
"Uma!" Anne exclaimed.
Uma was holding an enormous bouquet of sunflowers, which she immediately thrust into Anne's arms.
"If I hadn't asked around, I would've missed you completely! It's been ages since we hung out," Uma said. "Whatever happens between you and Willard, our friendship shouldn't end, right?"
Anne had always maintained good relationships with the Larsons. No one had ever treated her as an outsider. During her school days, the Larson family had handled anyone who tried to cause her trouble.
Uma especially had protected her since childhood. If not for studying abroad and later moving to Everglade City, they would have attended the same university. Uma had promised to always protect Anne, even arranging for others to look after her while she was abroad.
Regardless of what happened with Willard, Anne's friendship with Uma would remain intact.
"Uma, I'll definitely see you tomorrow, but tonight isn't possible," Anne said.
She needed to keep an eye on Willard to ensure he'd go to City Hall with her tomorrow to finalize their divorce.
Uma glanced at Willard. She knew enough about their situation without needing details.
She linked arms with Anne. "Why wait? Since we've run into each other, let's go now."
"I found this great place that's really fun," she added, winking at Anne and completely ignoring Willard behind them.
Willard offered no opinion, only saying to Anne, "Do what you want, but don't blame me later."
Anne immediately withdrew her arm and apologized to Uma. "I really can't tonight, Uma. I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow—whatever you want to do, my treat."
Getting the typically frugal Anne to offer to pay was no small thing. Even when the Larsons hired her for photography, she never gave discounts.
"Fine, but remember to contact me tomorrow, or I'll charge you double," Uma conceded.
Anne nodded quickly. "I'll call you as soon as I finish my business."
Tomorrow... who knew what would happen?
Uma waved goodbye with her back to them. Once Willard was in the car, he received her message: [One million dollars. You're welcome.]
Uma had come purely to stir things up. Without this payment, she might cause more trouble. Her not interfering was help enough.
Willard transferred one million dollars.
Uma: [How generous]
Willard ignored her and put his phone away before asking Anne, "Where would you like to stay?"
"At your place," Anne replied.
Anne had given this some thought. Since she was divorcing Willard, she didn't want to be photographed or run into acquaintances. Though Willard wouldn't let photos circulate, people with ulterior motives would certainly learn about their marital status.
Staying at a hotel would create unnecessary complications.
His place had excellent security. It was spacious with many rooms, allowing her to keep her distance while still keeping an eye on him.
She missed the fleeting look of triumph in Willard's eyes.
His voice was deep and even as he said, "This was your choice. I didn't force you."
Anne's mind was focused solely on the divorce. It was just one night; she couldn't be bothered to analyze his underlying meaning.
They rode in silence until they reached Willard's residence.
Anne headed straight for the guest room across from his master bedroom.
Before she entered, Willard stopped her. "If you stay there, how will you keep an eye on me?"
Anne frowned.
He was right—she couldn't watch him from there. If she fell asleep, he might leave without her knowing, inventing some excuse later.
But sharing a room didn't seem appropriate given their current relationship.
Willard suggested a solution. "You could sleep on the couch. That way, even if you fall asleep, you'll notice if I make any movements."
The idea seemed good.
Anne immediately accepted.
But if she'd thought about it carefully... why would Willard suggest that she, a woman, sleep on the couch? Despite their impending divorce, they still shared a lifelong connection. Considering their age difference, he shouldn't expect her to take the couch.
He'd known she would readily agree.
Willard brought her bedding and casually loosened his tie and cuffs.
"Would you like to shower first?" he asked nonchalantly.
Anne slowly realized something felt off. His casual intimacy, like that of a long-married couple, made her uncomfortable.
"I'm not showering," she replied.
Willard said nothing, turning to enter the bathroom. The sound of running water soon followed.
Only then did Anne realize what was wrong.
That cunning man!
She immediately threw aside the bedding and tried to leave his room.
But as she was about to close the door, she hesitated.
Sharing a room was inappropriate, but if she couldn't keep watch on him, the divorce might never happen.
Yet being in his room while he showered or did whatever else...what if she saw something she shouldn't? How awkward would that be?
Try as she might, she couldn't think of a good solution.
She wanted to ask someone for advice, but looking at the time on her phone, she put it back in her pocket.
It was too late to call anyone.
She anxiously ran her fingers through her hair.
Around the corner stood two security personnel.
A subordinate asked, "What's Mrs. Larson up to? She looks really upset."
His superior kicked him, "Are you the only one with eyes?"
The subordinate defended himself, "Aren't we supposed to watch Mrs. Larson and ensure her safety?"
His superior kicked him again, "Do you see any danger now?"
"No..."
"Keep staring at Mrs. Anne Larson, and Mr. Willard Larson will gouge your eyes out."
The team member recalled how the captain had followed orders last time but still received punishment, taking weeks to recover before returning to duty.
He quickly looked away.
He didn't understand what kind of game Willard and Anne were playing.
After much internal debate, Anne finally decided to stay in Willard's room.
Whatever happened tonight, as long as they could divorce tomorrow, she could pretend it never happened.
After all, they wouldn't see each other afterward.
Having convinced herself, she turned around quickly.
She wanted to hurry into bed and pretend to be asleep before Willard finished his shower, reducing the chances of any awkward situations.
But she never expected to turn and collide with what felt like a wall.
The scent of dampness filled her nostrils, accompanied by a faint chamomile fragrance—her usual shower gel.
Why would Willard smell like her shower gel?
Her mouth moved faster than her brain. "You're using my shower gel?"
Willard looked down at her, unsurprised by her odd observation.
Amusement flickered in his eyes.
"You left it in my bathroom," he replied.
Anne's memory was a bit fuzzy. After searching her memories, she vaguely recalled leaving it there when they got married.
"It must be expired by now," she said.
She didn't notice at all that the atmosphere was gradually becoming ambiguous.
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