Knock, knock—
Unexpectedly, there was another knock at the door. Anson's home had never been this lively before.
A party?
No need to lock the door—people could come and go freely, so why bother knocking?
Instinctively, Anson looked at Lucas. "Have you been spreading my business around?"
Lucas met Anson's gaze with a calm expression. "No."
"I just mentioned it to Grandma, oh, and to Uncle and Aunt…"
"Yeah, and Uncle Darren—I asked him if he knew what was going on. He's the one who told me that you were filming in Portland and just recently got back to Los Angeles."
"And then…"
Seeing Anson's expression growing darker, Lucas finally stopped. "No, that's it. No one else."
Anson, "Heh."
So, that's what he meant by "no one else."
But Anson didn't bother with Lucas any further and strode towards the door. Without hesitation, he yanked it open, and a gust of wind rushed in.
"…Captain?"
Standing at the door was Edgar.
Edgar clearly had no idea what was going on and began speaking to himself.
"Oh, I hope I'm not interrupting your vacation."
"You told me you were planning to go to Columbus next week, so I thought I should catch you before you leave…"
As he spoke, he entered the house and immediately noticed the three figures in the living room, his words faltering as he quickly scanned the scene.
"Mrs. Wood."
"And… this must be…"
Mr. Wood.
The words were on the tip of his tongue, but Edgar remembered the blunder he'd made in New York's Upper West Side last time. He chose his words carefully and didn't jump to conclusions, instead looking at Nora.
Before Nora could speak, Lucas stepped forward briskly, "Lucas Wood."
Dressed entirely in black with a tall, muscular frame, Lucas exuded a physical intensity that was almost overwhelming. His expressionless demeanor made him seem like Lucifer incarnate.
With just one look, he established dominance.
Edgar, unprepared for this, felt his muscles tense reflexively. It wasn't until they shook hands that he realized his arm muscles were completely taut.
"Edgar Cook."
Lucas didn't pause. "So, you're the agent who let Hayden Christensen and Brad Renfro bully Anson without doing anything?"
Anson facepalmed. "Lucas…"
But this time, Lucas ignored Anson, staring intently at Edgar.
Edgar felt a chill but managed to stay calm, adopting a professional demeanor as an agent. "Anson's personal friendships aren't within my scope of work. I can't, and don't want to, interfere."
"My job is to ensure that Anson's interests and reputation remain intact. Trust me, whether it's Hayden or Brad, I've taken every precaution. I won't allow them to tarnish my actor's name so easily."
Professional, objective, rational.
Edgar didn't let Lucas lead him astray.
Lucas slightly raised his chin, scrutinizing Edgar with a focused gaze.
That look was unsettling.
Edgar knew he hadn't done anything wrong, but he couldn't help but feel nervous.
Edgar released his right hand, slightly surprised that Lucas didn't push further and let go so decisively. But the unease in Edgar's heart didn't subside.
Only one thought ran through his mind: escape.
Trying to remain calm, Edgar said, "Anson, it seems today isn't the best time to discuss business. I won't interrupt your vacation any longer; we can reschedule."
Before he could finish, a voice cut in—a warm, gentle tone that fell like a ray of sunshine on a cold winter day, spreading ripples across a calm lake.
"No need to rush. Since you're here, why not stay and chat for a while? After a busy day, it's important to take ten minutes to enjoy a cup of coffee. These moments outside of work are what life is truly about."
"Very pleased to meet you, Charles Wood."
The unhurried words gently enveloped Edgar, effortlessly breaking down his defenses and taking control of the situation.
Edgar, who had been about to leave, found himself rooted in place, unsure of what had happened. By the time he realized, he was already sitting on the sofa, surrounded by the three Woods, unknowingly drawn into their world.
Anson watched this unfold quietly, thinking, "Oh, poor Captain."
However, Anson didn't say anything more. Just then, the kettle whistled, signaling that the water had boiled. Anson turned and went to the kitchen to busy himself.
When he brought the coffee back, he noticed Edgar's desperate plea for help. In just a few minutes, he seemed to have lost weight, the puffiness from the morning gone, and the dark circles under his eyes even more pronounced.
Anson wanted to laugh, but it didn't seem appropriate, so he held it in.
It was the first time he had seen Edgar like this. He never imagined Edgar had such a side. The thought of playing a prank crossed Anson's mind, so he pretended not to notice Edgar's distress signal and turned away, leaving the room.
Edgar panicked. "Anson…"
He called out.
Anson turned back, looking completely innocent.
Edgar forced a stiff smile, sweat starting to bead on his forehead. "Where are you going?"
"To get the sugar and milk." Anson replied calmly. "Or do you all take your coffee black?"
In his panic, Edgar hurriedly said, "Black is fine for me. It's just what I need to wake up in the morning." To prove his point, Edgar took a big sip of his coffee.
Anson, "It's hot—"
Before he could finish his warning, Edgar grimaced, his entire face scrunching up, his limbs curling in response.
Seeing this, Nora couldn't help but smile, completely entertained by the sight.
Edgar was too preoccupied to complain. "This coffee… are you sure?"
The burning sensation was bad, but he could handle that. What threw him off was the taste—it was like drinking ash water. Was this normal?
Charles glanced at the coffee and silently sat back down, clearly not planning to try it. "Anson, how did you brew this?"
"Just coffee and water, what else?" Anson said, as if it were the most obvious thing.
Even with the same coffee beans and grounds, sometimes the brew can be worlds apart. Some people just aren't cut out for it.
Charles wondered how he should break this news to his youngest son.
But Anson continued, "Look at Lucas; he has no problem with it."
Lucas, as calm as ever, held his coffee cup as if he were savoring the world's most delicious coffee, sipping it slowly and deliberately.
This sight left Edgar dumbfounded, making him question his own taste buds: could it be his sense of taste that was off?
Edgar took another tentative sip—no mistake, it still tasted like ash water!
"Captain, you mentioned work earlier?"
Finally, Anson decided to stop his prank and rescue Edgar from his torment.
Edgar stood up quickly, nodding vigorously, too stressed to care about the bitter taste in his mouth. The mental anguish was far worse than the physical discomfort.
"Yes, work."
Anson led Edgar towards the garden. As they walked away, a voice called out again.
"Mom, I saw you pick it up and then put it down. You should at least give it a taste."
Nora: Her smile was not a smile.