Chapter 774
Then, Dorothy saw Everett’s name changed into the “typing…” indicator.
But nothing came through, and it reverted to just his name.
A few secondster, the typing resumed.
Dorothy waited with bated breath, curious about what he might have to say, so she kept the chat
open, her gaze fixed on the screen.
After what seemed like an eternity of indecision, Everett finally sent a message.
[Sorry, sent it by ident.]
[Oh.]
She half-expected Everett to use the kids as a shield, iming they were messing around with his
phone.
Dorothy’s eyes lingered on her own response, the single “Oh,” feeling as though the conversation
had crashed and burned.
Wanting to keep the dialogue going, she typed out: [Are you with Abigail and Langston?]
Karen had once told her that if she wanted to prolong a conversation, she should keep asking
questions. After all, if someone wants to keep talking to you, they''ll answer any question.
Sure enough, Everett replied promptly.
[No, they''re at the hotel. I''ve arranged for a tutor to give them lessons. Just finished a meeting, I''m
in the car.]
As he recounted his whereabouts, Dorothy felt a pang of nostalgia, almost as if they had never
separated.
She really wanted to ask Everett if he would go along with his father’s wishes to be with Quincy, but
she knew that asking would tear down too many pretenses.
For now, she was content with this dynamic—ex-wife and ex-husband, the asional WhatsApp
message, and two kids as the link between them.
At least, that was what Dorothy told herself to ease her mind.
Unsure of what else to ask and seeing that Everett had said all there was to say, Dorothy was about
to put her phone away.
But then another message from Everett popped up.
[You want to see them today?]
Dorothy tilted her head, pondering for a moment, then replied: [Aren’t they busy with their tutor? I
don’t want to interrupt. Just sneak me some videos.]
[Alright.]
She arrived at her apartment and fixed herself a simple meal. As she pulled herptop out of her
bag, she inadvertently caught sight of the antacids Everett had his assistant bring her.
Dorothy was still curious—how did he know about her stomachache?
Surely, he couldn''t have installed a camera in her office. No, she''d have to check her office
thoroughly tomorrow.
...
In the car, Everett had already coughed several times as he settled into his seat.
Kevin, the driver, nced at Everett through the rear-view mirror and said, “Mr. Lopez, should I take
you to the hospital to get checked out? You don’t seem well today.”
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“It''s just a cold.”
Everett’s voice was slightly rough, raspy even.
“You’ve got that conference in Liberty City tomorrow. We should at least stop for some medicine so
you can get a good night’s sleep.”
“Have you looked over the guest list for the Liberty City summit?” Everett deftly sidestepped the
concern, flipping through his schedule on his tablet.
Sighing, Kevin murmured, “I’ve checked the list. Companies that have crossed us before aren’t
invited this time. I would’ve declined otherwise.”
“Okay, good.”
Everett nodded, then rubbed his temples.
He kept saying he was fine, but the difort was real. Ever since that incident with Heather, his
health had taken a hit. Just a brush with the cold air, and he was already feeling under the weather.
Taking advantage of a red light, Kevin bit his lip and spoke up nervously, “Mr. Lopez, if you’re not
going to take care of yourself, I might just have to tell Ms. Sanchez and let her handle you.”