Summer’s heart suddenly softened. Leonardo was indeed drunk.
If he faked it, no way he would call her “mom” because deep inside, his mom was his most important figure with whom he would not joke about. He did not allow anyone to touch him when he was drunk. Not that he was weird. It was because he trusted her. She was the only person he trusted. That was why he behaved the way he behaved.
Summer suddenly did not know what to do. No one could know what Leonardo was thinking. Yet, somehow, he was the kind of person who could not hide his emotions. When she questioned him earlier on whether he liked her because she looked like Rachel, he did not even bother to lie. He acquiesced to it. When he hated it, he hated it. When he loved it, he loved it. He would not sugar-coat it or bother to lie.
Summer let out a sigh, found a pair of pajamas, and helped him change into it. Leonardo was half-asleep, but subconsciously giving her his cooperation. After it was done, he fell asleep. His calm and composed, the gloom on his brow disappearing. He looked just like a normal young man of the rich.
He groped all of a sudden, feeling the quilt in his hand. His eyes were closed, but his brows were knitted together. Summer was seeing a man frown for the first time and she felt sorry for him. She reached her hand to take his hand, and he held it firmly in his hand. His brows eased up and only then he slept soundly.
…
When Leonardo opened his eyes the next morning, he felt a woman in his arms, her chest resting on his chest. They were in an intimate position.
He was having a bad hangover. He was confused and pulling his brows together in a frown. But soon he smelled a scent that belonged to Summer, finding himself lying in his own bedroom at home. His frown eased up, and he looked down at the woman in his arms.
Summer was still asleep, exhausted from having to take care of Leonardo last night. Her hair was spread out like black silk on the pillow. Wearing a white cotton sleeping gown, her face was flushed from the warmth in the quilt. She did not have the alluring that was a result of makeup, but there was a hint of lovely innocence.
With his finger, Leonardo reached out to tap on her nose. The corners of his mouth arched into a smile as he mumbled, “Little girl.” She was a little girl who was four years his junior. Staring at her for a while, he could not help himself from lowering his head to kiss her. He moved from her forehead to the tip of her nose, then her chin. Knowing that his kindle of lust was about to turn into a wildfire, Leonardo cut away, and got out of bed into the bathroom. After taking a shower, he felt as fresh as a daisy. Seeing Summer was still soundly asleep like a baby, he could not help but take a look at her again. Pulling the quilt over her, he then turned to get himself changed in the wardrobe.
…
Summer was waking up hungry. Rubbing her tummy as she got herself sitting up on the bed, she suddenly came to her senses. Turning her head and looking beside her, she found no one was there. She breathed a sigh of relief with a hint of disappointment.
She checked the time; it was 10:00 a. m. Leonardo never lay in; he was an early riser. When she finished cleaning herself up, the knocks came. The bodyguards were the only ones who would knock on the door. Summer asked, “What is it?”
“Mrs. Emerson, would you like to have your breakfast downstairs or here?” The one who spoke was not a man but a woman.
When was there a maid in the mansion? Summer went up and opened the door and saw a middle-aged woman in maid attire standing by the door. The woman was transfixed for a second when she saw Summer but quickly regained her composure to greet her.
“You are?” Summer remembered there was no maid in the house.
“My name is Ava Hughes. Just call me Ava.” The middle-aged woman wore a kind smile.
“Ava,” Summer asked, “where is Leonardo?”
“Young Master is in the reading room.” There was an avuncular smile on her face when Ava mentioned Leonardo. “You can go and see him if you want to.”
Judging by what the woman said, Summer could nearly guess it. Ava was not the kind of maids she used to know. After getting herself changed, Summer went to Leonardo’s reading room. As soon as she pushed the door open, she saw Leonardo staring at the PC tapping away on the keyboard.
He did not look at her but knew it was Summer. “Have you had your breakfast?”
“Not yet.” Summer was a little hesitant. Her feelings were getting more complicated after last night as if there was a tug of war inside her. One side told her to stick to what she believed in, stop thinking too much about to love or not to love, and just keep the relationship courteous and at a nice distance. The other side told her that Leonardo trusted her; she had a place in his heart. The fight was almost getting on her nerves.
Leonardo looked up with a slight frown. “Please, eat your breakfast.” His looks from last night were gone. He had returned to his stone-cold persona.
Summer exhaled, asking, “Is Ava someone you hired?”
“She used to take care of my mom, and she cooks well. My mom liked her. She resigned after my mom was gone.”
His matter-of-fact way of talking about his mom surprised her. “It would not be convenient without a maid in the house,” he added as if he had left off something.
Summer blinked her eyes. If she had understood it correctly, he was saying that he brought Ava back because of her. Her suspicion and thoughts were written on her face.
Leonardo hemmed, his face darkening. “Go get your breakfast.”
“Alright.” She turned around and slowly walked out. Halfway, she suddenly stopped, smiling like a little cunning fox. “Leonardo, do you know what you have done last night?”
“What?”
Leonardo squinted at her. Last night, in the Golden Cauldron, he had thought of getting drunk to make up to Summer. Instead, he had one too many and got hammered for real. He still remembered how he made it home, and that it was Summer who helped him get changed. But he could recall nothing more trivial, such as what he had said.
“Nothing, I’m going to get breakfast now.”
Judging from his unchanging expression, she knew he did not remember it. It was a good thing that he did not remember; otherwise, he might have killed her.
As Summer was having her breakfast, Leonardo came downstairs. Her mouth was sipping on the congee, but her eyes were checking him out. What is this man doing here?
Leonardo sat down across from her, face solemn. After a while of silence, he spoke. “It’s not that you look like her; she was the one who looked like you.”