Carl had noticed that Summer had never looked at Leonardo once from the beginning. He decided to help Leonardo.
“Why not you join us? Leonardo is driving. If he gets drunk, you can drive and send him home,” Carl said.
“Tim can help. If not, you can always hire a driver.” Summer said with a smile, looking like her usual self.
Leonardo looked at Summer. He had been spending most of his time at work. Even when he was home, there were few words between them. Even this was the first time he was seeing her at close range in a week. Never mind that they were living in the same mansion. Looking at her now, he was starting to miss her already.
Sensing his stare, Summer began to feel uneasy, her expression stiffening. If this went on, she was going to lose her composure. She lifted her leg as she started to leave. Just then, a hand grasped her. At the same time, a hoarse voice spoke into her ear.
“Let’s go home together.”
The voice was nonchalant, devoid of any emotions. His hand felt warm and dry, holding hers firmly in his, it made her felt warm and safe.
Summer curled her fingers, lips slightly parting. “I have a script to rush back home.”
Leonardo’s face darkened. Without giving her any chance to say no, he took her into the elevator. Carl and Warren followed.
Summer was hot under the collar with her hand stuck in his. Leonardo saw her snowy white face stiffening, obviously very angry. But she tried hard not to lose it. It pleased him to see this, especially after having depression for the past few days.
Carl saw their expressions and took it all in. He thought Leonardo had a death wish. Could he not see that Summer was angry? And why he still looked so happy? Was he a pervert? He thought of Jessica. If she could just talk to him for a moment, he would be happy for days. But comparisons are odious.
…
Warren felt a little depressed because their hang out session had turned into lovebirds-watching, he and Carl feeling like the third wheel.
“Would you like to eat this?
“What about this?”
Leonardo asked as he rotated the turntable to bring dishes before her. What was wrong with him? With Carl and Warren on the scene, she could only grit her teeth and eat. The three men drank as she ate. Before she realized it, they had finished a few bottles.
Carl was crying on Warren’s shoulder like a baby. Feeling disgusted, Warren wanted to push him away, but he was no match for Carl in the fight. He could not overpower Carl either. The only option was to be the shoulder to cry on for Carl.
Summer tried to look composed, but it was too shocking. She could not help it.
“I don’t know what wrong I have done…”
“I’m sorry, I’m wrong. But it’s not that wrong after all…”
Carl said as he cried. After a while, Summer felt her shock had turned into sadness. Just then, a weight fell on her shoulder. She turned and looked. Leonardo was leaning his head on her shoulder with his eyes closed.
“Are you… drunk?”
Summer pushed him, but there was no response from him. She and Warren looked at each other; they could see the helplessness in each other’s eyes.
…
Getting Leonardo to the car was a Herculean effort; when he was drunk, no one except Summer could touch him. Meanwhile, Carl, hammered, was carried to the car. Warren closed back the door and came up to Summer, who was now in the car with Jarrett Leonardo.
“Can you handle it?” he asked.
“There are bodyguards at home.” The bodyguards could always help if she could not.
But Warren said nothing, just cocking an eyebrow.
“If push comes to shove, I will knock him out, and the bodyguards will take care of the rest.” Not sure what was wrong with Leonardo; when he was drunk, he did not allow anyone, except her, to touch him. She suspected that this man was faking it. Summer saw Warren’s expression changing. If she was not mistaken, he was giving her a mental salute. What could she do? He could not expect her to carry Leonardo on her back.
Summer drove Leonardo home. The plastered Leonardo was very quiet, his eyes almost closed. He let Summer hold him as they walked inside. She struggled to help him up the stairs, gritting her teeth. Why did she not get the help of the bodyguards? She did not know.
Summer dropped Leonardo on the bed, went into the bathroom, and came back out with a damp towel to clean his face. He refused to be held by the waitstaff in the Golden Cauldron earlier. Now his shirt was creased, three buttons undone. His lips tightly pursed, eyes closed, looking less grim and dangerous than normal days.
Taking a deep breath, Summer reached to wipe his face with the towel. He suddenly opened his eyes, nearly scaring the wits out of her. She pulled her hand back, and he started to gaze into the air. Without a warning, he bounced up and sat on the bed, staring at Summer.
“Are you awake?” she asked.
All of a sudden, Leonardo lunged over and cuddled her, calling out, “Mom!”
Summer was struck dumb, inadvertently dropping the towel on the bed. Fearing that the damp towel would wet the bedsheet, she quickly picked her up and threw it to one side.
Leonardo cuddled in her arms, staying still. She did not dare to move a muscle. Such a timid Leonardo looked a little scary. After a while, she felt her body started to go numb. She called him softly, but there was no response. She gave him a gentle push, and he moved. As if she had flicked a start button, Leonardo hugged her even tighter this time, repeatedly calling out to his mom.
Summer did not know what to do. After some time, she patted him on his back and said with her shivering voice, “Let go of me, and let mommy help change your clothes.” She shuddered as she finished talking.
Probably her words had worked their magic on his mind. Leonardo let go of her, opening his arms wide as if waiting for her to undress him. His eyes were closed, and his face was no longer grim. He had total trust in Summer.