Chapter 237
Penelope glanced over her shoulder, watching Zebulon approach step by step. A small smile played on her lips as she picked up a teacup from the table and casually tossed it.
It shattered on the ground with a sharp crack, and Zebulon immediately froze. That was about as much courage as he had.
“Are you drunk?” Anna hissed, marching over and pinching his lower back, hard.
“Don’t you think her silhouette looks familiar? A lot like… like Penelope p>
“Penelope?” Anna ground her teeth. “Are you so obsessed with her that you see her everywhere p>
“No, I’m serious. Is that her p>
Zebulon stared at the figure in the distance. He was almost certain he wasn’t
mistaken, yet he didn’t dare get any closer. If he was wrong and offended the real
Mrs. Stapleton, he and the Stone Group would be finished.
Just then, a maid approached.
“Ma’am, your porridge is ready. I’ve placed it in your room p>
“Thank you. I’ll be down in a minute p>
“Very good.” The maid then turned to Anna and Zebulon. “Ms. Flores, our mistress isn’t feeling well. Please do not disturb her p>
Anna quickly nodded and started to drag Zebulon away.
“I know I’m not wrong,” he insisted.
“So you think Penelope is Mrs. Stapleton p>
“Of course… of course not p>
“Then what is wrong with you?” Anna took a deep breath and turned back to Penelope. “Mrs. Stapleton, we didn’t mean to offend you. Please don’t be angry. We’re leaving now p>
With a final glare at Zebulon, Anna walked away.
Zebulon hesitated for a moment. “Mrs. Stapleton, your silhouette is strikingly similar
to my wife’s. That’s why I was so forward just now. I apologize p>
He offered his apology and quickly followed Anna.
Penelope rolled her eyes. She knew he wouldn’t have the guts. And calling her his wife? The nerve.
Back in her room, Penelope had a few bites of the porridge, but it was bland. Just then, the tantalizing aroma of grilled meat wafted in from outside, making her mouth water.
She sent a text to Theodore: Honey, what do you think is better, grilled eel or grilled croaker?
Downstairs, the conversation had turned to the resort project. These gatherings were never just for fun; business was always on the agenda.
“This project is a major focus for the Bishop Group, but just as they broke ground, it was revealed that their permits were incomplete. Now the whole thing is on hold The losses are piling up daily it’s going to be astronomical,” Michael began.
“The Bishop Group is a huge company, but don’t think even they can sustain that kind of loss for. long said Simon, who despite not being in real estate, was
well-informed. “My guess is they’re already looking for a partner p>
Hamilton glanced at Theodore. Zenith Group, would likely be interested in a project like this, Theodore himself seemed
Qu
completely disengaged, but
He was on
his phone, texting someone, seemingly oblivious to the
conversation around him?
Theodore: Which one do you think is better?
Penelope: Croaker.
Theodore: Should I go grill a couple of skewers?
Penelope: I doubt you know how to grill.
Theodore: How about I grill some and bring them up for you to judge my skills?
Penelope: Sigh. I have a cold. Mr. Olson said I should eat light for a few days.
Theodore: Right.
Penelope: But just a little taste won’t hurt.
Theodore couldn’t help but smile: I agree. A little taste won’t hurt.
Penelope: Might as well throw in a couple of beef tongue skewers. And some lamb and chicken wings.
While the others were deep in serious discussion, Theodore suddenly stood up, walked over to the barbecue, and started grilling.
The conversation halted as everyone turned to stare at him. There he was, in his expensive white shirt and limited-edition watch, standing in a cloud of smoke, grilling skewers.
Hamilton laughed. “If you want barbecue, just have the chef make it. Why are you doing it yourself p>
“I’m making it for my wife,” Theodore replied.
“Well, the chef can make it for her too p>
“She said she wants to taste my cooking p>
Hamilton exchanged a look with Michael and the others, and they all started to
tease Theodore.
“We want to taste Mr. Stapleton’s cooking too p>
Theodore answered without missing a beat, “Maybe in your next life p>