Chapter 194 You Can't Do It
"Tell me! What do I lack compared to her! Is it that her chest is bigger than mine? I can get surgery too!"
Herschel closed his eyes, his face darkening.
Emma's sudden stripping caught him off guard.
He tensed his abs and sat up, causing Emma to lose her balance and fall backward.
Herschel had no choice but to open his eyes and grab her waist to keep her from falling.
He struggled to put Emma's clothes back on her.
The two of them tugged at the clothes.
One trying to put them on, the other trying to take them off—it was quite a struggle.
Herschel never imagined drunk people could be this difficult.
"I want to take a bath," Emma said resentfully.
"Fine, fine, fine."
Herschel had completely lost his patience.
He helped her to the bedroom sofa, walked into the bathroom and filled the bathtub with water. After it was full, he came back out and helped Emma into the bathroom.
He didn't help her undress. He just held her and placed her directly into the bathtub.
Worried she might drown herself, he could only stand in the bathroom and wait.
Herschel took out his phone to reply to work messages. He answered messages and made calls in the bathroom, all work-related.
Emma looked down, her fingers playing with the water.
Elizabeth's appearance had given her a sense of crisis.
She was terrified that one day Freya and Russell would stop protecting her, afraid that Timothy would send her back to the psychiatric hospital.
Just in case.
She had to make Herschel her safety net too.
Everyone looks out for themselves.
Herschel only had work on his mind and was a man of few words.
His kindness toward Emma was all for Freya and Russell's sake.
Emma's eyes darkened.
She took off her clothes in the water and slowly sank beneath the surface.
Herschel was in the middle of discussing something with a subordinate when he turned around and didn't see Emma.
He frowned and hung up the phone, walking closer to the bathtub.
He quickly reached in and pulled Emma up from the bottom of the tub.
He gave her emergency aid.
Emma came to in a daze.
She slowly opened her eyes, frowning, "I feel awful."
Seeing that Emma was okay, Herschel breathed a sigh of relief. Only then did he notice her current state.
Expressionless, he went to get a bathrobe, wrapped her in it, and placed her on the bed.
Emma must have worn herself out—she fell asleep on her own.
When she woke up again, it was already dark outside.
She sat up, the blanket sliding down. She rubbed her eyes and saw the man sitting on the sofa.
She quietly pulled the blanket up higher, covering herself.
"Herschel."
Hearing her voice, Herschel rubbed his temples and stood up. He looked at Emma, "You're awake. I'm heading back now. Next time you drink, make sure someone's home."
Emma lowered her head apologetically, her ears turning red. "Sorry for the trouble."
She pulled the blanket tighter.
Her smooth shoulders were exposed.
There was a moment of awkwardness between them.
"I'm leaving. There's porridge in the kitchen for you."
Herschel walked out of the bedroom. He left Emma's place and stood at the door waiting for his driver to pick him up.
Thinking about how Emma had gotten so upset over Timothy that she drank herself into this state, he still took out his phone and called his secretary.
"Set up a meeting with Ms. Penrose from the Sherman Group. Tell her it's about the Nightingale Group's luxury goods business."
He wanted to see Elizabeth.
That evening.
After her bath, Seraphina wore a yellow duck bathrobe, looking fresh and adorable.
Her five round little toes were spread out, resting on a small stool.
Timothy held nail clippers, crouching down to trim Seraphina's toenails.
Elizabeth walked into the living room rubbing her temples and saw Timothy trimming Seraphina's toenails.
Under the light, the father and daughter's atmosphere was warm and harmonious.
Seeing them, Elizabeth felt her exhaustion from the day instantly disappear—well, figuratively speaking.
There's a saying: mentally refreshed, physically tired.
"Mommy!"
"Elizabeth."
When they saw Elizabeth, their eyes lit up, calling out to her in unison.
Elizabeth smiled and walked over, bending down to give each of them a kiss on the forehead.
Timothy stood up. "Seraphina, you watch cartoons for now. I'll go run a bath for your mom."
Hearing she could watch cartoons, Seraphina's eyes crinkled with joy. She waved her little hand, "Go ahead, Mommy's tired. I'll be good."
Her little toes on the stool were practically dancing up and down with happiness.
Timothy's eyebrows lifted with a smile. He put away the nail clippers and walked to the bedroom with his arm around Elizabeth.
He went to the bathroom and turned on the bathtub faucet.
Elizabeth went to the closet to get clothes to change into, then walked into the bathroom and started brushing her teeth.
While brushing, she asked unclearly, "Mr. Robinson, I need to hire a really professional computer programmer. Where can I find one?"
Timothy looked up, raising an eyebrow. "The answer is right in front of you."
Elizabeth gave Timothy a cool look. "You won't work."
A moment of silence.
Her words were pretty ambiguous.
She explained, "We need to keep our relationship under wraps for a while longer."
Timothy stood behind her and put his arms around her. "I understand. I'll send someone to the Sherman Group to find you tomorrow."
Elizabeth heard the hurt in his voice.
Her eyes flickered, and she deliberately twisted her waist, grinding against him.
Timothy's jaw tightened.
His eyes darkened, and he unceremoniously patted her bottom, his voice husky, "I'm going to the living room to keep Seraphina company."
Leaving Seraphina alone in the living room for too long made them both uneasy.
He walked out of the bathroom with measured steps.
Elizabeth's gaze dropped to look at his lower half.
The bathroom door considerately closed.
Elizabeth smiled. She got into the bathtub, soaking in the warm water, sighing with comfort.
She thought about the phone call she'd received tonight—Herschel had suddenly changed his mind and wanted to meet with her to discuss the luxury goods business.
A bit strange.