Cordy certainly came to like Richard a lot after spending a week with the boy. “I’ve left you my number, so call me anytime you miss me. I’ll even come to meet you when I’m free.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire…”
Cordy dropped to a crouch then, which took her considerable exertion.
Nearby, the nonexistent man was left frowning as she tenderly tousled Richard’s hair from the same height as the latter. “Yes, pants on fire.”
Richard beamed adorably then and gave her a peck on the cheek.
The nonexistent man frowned even harder then.
“I have to go now,” Cordy told Richard with a tender look.
“Okay, Mommy. Don’t run or you might fall,” Richard called after her sweetly—the boy simply refused to stop calling her that even after a week.
When Cordy tried to, Richard would become alarmed, thinking that she was abandoning her, his little eyes turning red and welling with tears from misery.
It certainly stopped Cordy from being stubborn—the boy would get it when he was older anyway.
As she limped out alone from her ward on her crutch, John kept following her.
She wanted to stop him more than once, but she held her tongue.
It was not until they reached the main entrance that she spoke. “Mr. Levine…”
However, he simply walked past her, opening the door of the black Maybach parked in front of her like a gentleman.
As Cordy frowned, he said, “I’ll give you a ride home.”
“I shouldn’t trouble you. I can get home by myself.”
“I have a car,” he insisted simply.
Cordy stared at him. Was he bragging?
“It’s no trouble,” he added.
Cordy genuinely found it difficult to talk to him, but she compromised regardless.
He seemed to have this mystical ability to stop her from refusing, though refusing was just going to be a waste of time—it would never work.
As she got into the luxurious sedan, John asked, “Where do you live, Ms. Sachs?”
“North Garden,” she replied.
She never returned to Sachs Mansion ever since she returned to the country, and her so-called family never cared.
“Yeah,” John said, giving the chauffeur a look.
The chauffeur quickly nodded and slowly drove out of the hospital.
That was when John suddenly leaned toward Cordy.
She was startled even though she was clearly wary—John had always kept his distance.
Still, she looked on as he helped her put on her seatbelt, and she was left pursing her lips.
After he was done, he said evenly, “You don’t have to clench your fists, Ms. Sachs.”
Cordy promptly looked down.
She did not notice that she was doing that.
As the awkwardness of the situation unfurled, John added, “Don’t worry, Ms. Sachs. I’m not the type to sleep around.”
Cordy was speechless.
How narcissistic could he get?!
Unable to hold back just then, she blurted, “How did you get a kid if you really were?”
She regretted it almost as soon as she said it—she was not close enough to John that they could joke like that.
Indeed, John turned to look at her and held her gaze for a long while.
However, just as she thought about changing the subject, John said, “It was against my will.”
Cordy was dumbfounded—something like that could happen to a burly man who measured up to six feet tall?!
“I guess she’s quite assertive.” Cordy tried to play along.
“She was on that day.” John nodded, glancing at her again with his dark gaze.
Somehow, Cordy felt like their conversation was not that dull.
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