Chapter 64

Patricia was about to respond when her iPad pinged with a WhatsApp message. It was from Mark's assistant.

She glanced down and said, "I can't go."

Charles saw the message too, and his heart sank. He remembered Paul's advice about being understanding and generous to be more appealing.

"We can reschedule the trip. When do you plan to go?"

"Mark's studio sent an invitation. I'll find time next week to visit Regal City," Patricia said, nodding in approval of Charles's tact.

"I need to focus on my designs for the next few days. Emily might need more of your attention."

"Okay," Charles agreed, though he wasn't thrilled about it.

Patricia picked up her iPad and suddenly thought of something. She looked up and reminded Charles, "Just shoot me an email with the arrangements once you're done."

Her tone was casual, like confirming a work process.

Charles felt conflicted. This wasn't what Paul had described.

Paul had said to "create opportunities for alone time," but Patricia seemed indifferent, treating it like a routine task.

Patricia noticed he was still standing there and asked, "Anything else?"

"No."

Had she always been this unromantic? Charles was bewildered.

"Then go rest."

Charles's eyelid twitched, further convinced that Patricia was indeed an unromantic woman.

That night, in the guest bedroom, Charles leaned against the bed, reading Paul's "Dating Guide" on his phone.

The screen's light made his face look pale.

"Create surprises," "Show vulnerability," "Natural physical contact."

Charles read it over and over, pondering where he might have gone wrong today.

Was his intention for a private date not clear enough?

For the next few days, Patricia locked herself in various rooms, sometimes the study, sometimes Emily's playroom, wherever inspiration struck.

Rosewood Estate felt like it had been muted; the servants spoke in hushed tones.

A few days ago, someone saw Charles calling Patricia for dinner, only to be scolded harshly. After that, meals were delivered by the servants.

Charles didn't dare provoke her again, canceling all unnecessary engagements. He appeared in the nursery daily, clumsily learning to braid Emily's hair and read her storybooks.

"Daddy, that's not how the bunny takes a bath," Emily corrected him, holding her stuffed toy and frowning. "You need to make bubbles first."

Charles fumbled with the toy bunny, squeezing out too much soap, oblivious to the foam splashing on his shirt. He responded softly, "Okay, Daddy will remember."

Looking at Emily's cherubic face, he wondered if Patricia had looked like this as a child.

As evening approached, he had just put Emily to sleep when he received a call from the Anderson Mansion, saying that William wanted everyone home for dinner.

Emily woke up from the noise, rubbing her eyes. "Is Mommy not coming?"

Charles knelt to adjust her pajama collar, his voice gentle, "Mommy's busy with work. How about Daddy takes you out for dinner?"

"Okay!"

Before leaving, Charles knocked on the studio door to inform Patricia, then took his daughter to the Anderson Mansion.

The long table was already filled with people.

Missy noticed Charles and Emily entering alone and asked, "Where's Patricia? The kitchen made her favorite dishes today."

"She's busy with her designs and can't leave," Charles said, seating Emily and himself, his gaze unconsciously drifting to the door, feeling something was missing.

Missy remembered asking Patricia to alter a dress a few days ago and felt guilty. "I'll have the kitchen pack some food for you to take back. Don't let her go hungry."

"Okay." Charles served Emily a piece of meat but forgot to serve himself, pausing mid-action.

Missy noticed and placed a piece of fish in his plate, worried. "Are you two fighting? You've seemed distracted these past few days."

If Charles and Patricia were fighting, she wouldn't know how to handle it.

Ruben, sitting opposite, gently touched her hand and whispered, "Kids have their own lives. Don't worry too much."

He turned to Charles, "How's the company? I heard you secured the land in Strollway District?"

"Yes, the paperwork is almost done," Charles replied absentmindedly.

His mind was filled with images of Patricia in her studio. Had she forgotten to eat again? Was the lamp too dim, straining her eyes?

Thea noticed Charles's distracted demeanor and chuckled, rubbing her slightly rounded belly. "Mom and I visited Rosewood Estate recently. The education team you hired for Emily is great. I want Rex and Kelly to join them."

"Just bring them over to learn together," Missy said, watching Charles's reaction.

Seeing no objection from Charles, she relaxed a bit.

Thea added casually, "There's a teacher named Lillian Brown who looks a lot like someone. I almost mistook her last time. You'd think she was..."

"Eat," Charles interrupted coldly. "Don't say things you shouldn't."

Thea shrank back, scared by his icy tone, and looked at Missy, "Mom, I was just making conversation."

"Less idle talk during meals," Missy scolded, feeling a pang of anxiety.

The woman Thea mentioned was Charles's childhood friend. Their families were close, and William had once considered adopting her.

But things happened, and William separated them. Charles had been stubbornly refusing to marry ever since.

Could it be that Charles hadn't moved on?

Missy felt a wave of panic, whispering to Ruben, "If Patricia leaves because of this, what about Emily?"

Ruben patted her hand reassuringly, "Don't listen to Thea's nonsense. Charles will handle it."

After calming his wife, Ruben glanced at Charles, who hadn't eaten much, and sighed.

Charles was oblivious to his parents' concerns, his mind fixated on Patricia's indifferent rejection. Her eyes held no guilt, no apology, just a cold detachment, as if his efforts were irrelevant.

How could he make her happy? Charles couldn't figure it out.

After dinner, Charles was about to leave with Emily when the butler, Jared, stopped him.

"Mr. Charles Anderson, Mr. William Anderson is waiting for you in the study."

Charles nodded slightly, handed Emily to Missy and the others, and went upstairs.

Opening the study's wooden door, he saw William lounging in a chair, a cigar in his mouth, looking relaxed.

"Sit," William said, his eagle-like eyes sharp. "Do you know why I called you?"

Charles sat opposite, "You want to discuss the mole?"

"I heard the Anderson Group's bid prices have leaked three times," William said, placing the cigar on the table, smoke obscuring his expression.

"Finance and project departments found nothing. Where do you think the problem is?"

"We're investigating," Charles said, his fingers tightening. "We're focusing on senior management's communication records."

"Hmph, I think your mind is elsewhere," William snorted. "You're always around your wife and kid, forgetting you're the Anderson Family heir?"