Chapter 637: Chapter 637: I Cannot Do It
The plane ticket booked by Cherith Burleigh for Ann Vaughn was delivered to Vaughn Clinic in the afternoon.
Due to the year-end workload doubling up and everyone being overwhelmingly busy, Sherry couldn’t make time to accompany Ann Vaughn to F Country, leaving the other ticket temporarily unused.
After finishing the preparation of the scar removal cream, Ann Vaughn handed it over to the bodyguard sent by Kressiel, then left the clinic and returned to Unit 8 to pack her luggage.
However, since earlier, Cyrus Hawthorne’s phone had been unanswered, so Ann Vaughn could only call Mark Joyce.
Mark Joyce, coming out of the meeting room to get some documents, happened to see an incoming call on his phone and picked it up, "Miss Vaughn?"
"Special Assistant Joyce, is Quinn very busy right now?"
"Yes. A project collaboration hasn’t been going particularly smoothly, and President Hawthorne hasn’t rested for several days. He held a meeting as soon as he arrived at the company this morning, which has not yet concluded," Mark Joyce explained honestly.
Hasn’t rested for several days?
Ann Vaughn was slightly stunned.
The night before had been chaotic, and she eventually fainted. Upon waking, Cyrus Hawthorne had long since left, and she had no idea if he had rested.
...Wait a minute.
He hasn’t rested for several days, so why was his first priority at home not to rest but to beep— with her?!!
Silently cursing him as a "beast" in her heart, Ann Vaughn told Mark Joyce, "When he’s done with his work, please let him know that I have a business trip to F Country and will be back in a few days."
"In the meantime, could you keep an eye on Quinn for a bit, ensure he doesn’t fall back into the habit of skipping meals and working all night."
When Ann Vaughn mentioned going on a business trip, Mark Joyce instinctively felt uneasy. By the end of the conversation, he was almost in tears.
The president’s wife really expected too much of him.
Who else in the world, apart from the president’s wife, would dare to remind President Hawthorne to remember to eat and not work overtime?
If he dared, his dried-up corpse would likely be found hanging at the entrance of Hawthorne Group tomorrow QAQ.
However, Ann Vaughn was in a hurry to pack her luggage, so she didn’t say much more to Mark Joyce before hanging up and sending a message to Susie Sommers.
She asked if Susie wanted to go abroad to relax a bit.
After packing the essentials in her suitcase and getting ready to leave, she saw Susie’s reply.
Her alias read: I’ve been imprisoned by Youngest Uncle Moore, I can’t do it anymore.
At the end was an unusually shy emoji.
Ann Vaughn: "..."
Little Rose: What’s with that ridiculous alias? Do you need me to call the cops?
I’ve been imprisoned by Youngest Uncle Moore, I can’t do it anymore: This is the best proof I could come up with to prove I have forgotten about him! But why call the cops? Youngest Uncle Moore isn’t that kind of person!
Tsk...
Ann Vaughn looked at Susie’s message with a grandfather’s curiosity for his mobile phone.
This woman whose words were dripping with the fragrance of spring blossoms, is she really the same friend who was on the verge of tears, angry, and in despair on the phone the other day?
Little Rose: Don’t misunderstand, I wasn’t worried you’d get into trouble; I was concerned Youngest Uncle Moore might get wrecked by you.
I’ve been imprisoned by Youngest Uncle Moore, I can’t do it anymore: ...Life’s struggles don’t need exposing!!
Knowing that this friend who’s willingly drowning in love wouldn’t come with her to F Country, Ann Vaughn sighed with a slight sense of helplessness.
After leaving Unit 8, Ann Vaughn asked the driver to first head to Cloudmere Manor before going to the airport.
...
F Country.
After an almost seven-hour flight, upon landing, Ann Vaughn was escorted by the assistant and bodyguard sent by Cherith to a hotel on The Elysian Boulevard.
Once she had rested, she was taken to Cherith’s residence—a garden villa located on The Southern Azure Coast.
Waiting to greet Ann Vaughn was Cherith’s wife, Madame Sisha, a dignified woman with beautiful blonde hair.
Madame Sisha led Ann Vaughn to the upstairs dining room, softly saying to her, "I heard from Cherith that Dr. Vaughn is from S Country, so I’ve learned to cook some home-style dishes from an S Country chef. I hope I haven’t been remiss."
"You are too kind, Madame. I’m not a picky eater," Ann Vaughn replied with a soft smile.
As a representative’s wife, Madame Sisha would have been justified in carrying herself with a sense of superiority.
Yet, she was gentle, considerate, approachable, and spoke with perfect decorum, which naturally made Ann Vaughn feel a bit closer to her.
As they continued chatting, Cherith finally returned from outside.
He was tall and lean, wearing a tailored dark blue velvet suit, exuding a serious and composed aura.
Although his complexion wasn’t great, his brown eyes were bright and intelligent, exuding a shrewd and wise radiance.
It was evident he held a high position.
Madame Sisha stood to greet him, slightly reproaching, "You come back neither early nor late, but just when Dr. Vaughn is dining? If she isn’t annoyed at you, then I’m unhappy."
With just one sentence, she not only defused Cherith’s lateness but also subtly bridged their relationship with Ann Vaughn.
"No rush, no rush," Cherith said warmly to Ann Vaughn who had put down her chopsticks, "Dr. Vaughn, take your time eating. If the dishes aren’t enough, just have the chef make more."
"I’m quite full already, thank you for the hospitality." Madame Sisha was so hospitable that Ann Vaughn felt a little overstuffed.
Anyway, she wouldn’t have minded Cherith’s tardiness even without Madame Sisha’s remark.
It seemed Cherith was worried she’d feel uneasy visiting them alone; arranging for Madame Sisha to entertain her before his delayed arrival was deliberate.
Both of them were truly insightful people.
Ann Vaughn’s gaze lingered briefly on Cherith’s energetic face before she asked, "I’d like to see the specific condition of your two daughters first."
After exchanging a glance, Cherith and Madame Sisha dismissed the chef and maids from the dining room, then explained to Ann Vaughn.
"Actually, we don’t have any children. That was a fabricated lie to prevent eavesdropping, a precautionary measure."
Ann Vaughn immediately understood, "So, the real patient is actually Mr. Cherith."
"Dr. Vaughn truly has keen insight, as rumored, nothing escapes your eyes," Cherith nodded in admiration.
"My husband’s health started showing abnormalities last month: frequent palpitations, insomnia, sometimes his body would inexplicably move on its own, and he wouldn’t remember those times once he’d come to..." Madame Sisha expressed deep concern.
This might not be a major issue for an ordinary person, but for a nation’s representative, it was essentially a fatal flaw.
Due to this condition, Cherith inadvertently messed up the content signature of an international document, almost causing a grave error, though it was timely corrected.