From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

“This vase, hmm…”

“This painting is not bad, but it doesn't match the style of the hall…”

“Have you considered re-plastering the walls?”

As soon as he entered, Charles-Wood began to survey the place with his hands behind his back.

His voice was low and refined, as magnetic as a vinyl record. Even though he was rambling, his unhurried pace and sincere tone were not at all aggressive. They entered the ears without obstruction, easily grabbing attention. Combined with his appearance and attire, he naturally exuded a sense of persuasiveness.

This, too, was a kind of charm.

A word naturally surfaced in Anson's mind:

Con artist.

Okay, it didn't seem quite appropriate to use such a word to describe the father of this skin; but that was the first word that popped into his head.

Anson ignored Charles's rambling and looked down at the card in his hand. Opening it, it turned out to be a bar of—

Dark chocolate.

Anson was speechless, holding the chocolate bar, and immediately started munching on it:

Silky smooth. Rich and fragrant. A touch of bitterness cleverly blended into the rich, non-greasy sweetness. Light and graceful, it spread across the tip of the tongue.

Charles turned around and noticed the slight upturn of Anson's lips, revealing a faint smile. “I knew you'd like it.”

Anson leaned against the wall at the entrance of the hall, “Why did you suddenly run over here? It shouldn't be just to help me redecorate the apartment, right?”

“Yes, Johnny Depp, do you know him? He bought a villa in Beverly Hills. He doesn't like the decoration and wants a complete overhaul. Darren recommended me to him, and I need to come over and talk to him first.”

Anson didn't answer—

His intuition told him that something was strange; but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

From his memories, Charles wasn't the type to give surprise visits. He was in contact with high society all year round and knew that no one welcomed such surprises.

Because surprises often meant intrusion, disrupting the daily routine in a rude way, and possibly discovering secrets, which was precisely what the upper class disliked the most.

But, Charles appeared, without saying hello, just appearing at the door like that.

Something was a little strange.

Anson chewed the chocolate, quietly watching Charles.

Bathing in Anson's gaze, Charles was very calm, the smile on the corner of his mouth slightly raised, “Wait, did I choose the wrong time? Is there still a guest in the bedroom upstairs?”

Anson raised his eyebrows slightly, “You can go upstairs and check for yourself.”

He still couldn't see anything wrong. Maybe it was just that he had just finished recording the album, and his upside-down biological clock still hadn't adjusted, making him paranoid.

“How long will you be staying in Los Angeles this time, and where have you arranged to live?”

Anson temporarily put down his doubts and entered the role of host.

“Tea? Coffee? Or… alcohol?”

Charles revealed a smile, “Are you sure? Can you do it yourself? Before, at home, someone always delivered it to your hand. Now you have to rely on yourself for everything.”

Anson shrugged slightly, “There's no way, the life of a Hollywood eighteenth-tier actor is like this. In fact, I'm very capable now. Lucas will be surprised.”

Charles watched Anson's footsteps enter the kitchen, “Coffee is fine. So, am I about to taste your handmade coffee?”

“Hand-ground coffee. Although Chris grinds it all, it's still hand-ground coffee. Oh, Chris is my roommate. He went to the gym early in the morning.”

As he spoke, he busied himself.

He had just put the kettle on the gas stove when there was another knock on the door.

Charles sat in the hall and looked over, “Do you need me to help you open the door?”

Anson waved his hand and walked towards the door himself, muttering.

“What's going on this morning? Could it be Edgar? He didn't say he was coming over either.”

Creak.

“Surprise!”

Opening the door, an elegant woman stood before him with a smile, a suitcase at her feet, and a bouquet of golden tulips in her hand. The golden sunlight flowed down her hair, outlining the contours of her face, and revealing a neat and sassy temperament in every move.

Anson, “Mom?”

Appearing before him was Nora-Wood.

The second uninvited guest.

Anson blinked, “Dad just arrived. Why didn't you come together?”

“Your father?” Nora was stunned, “Isn't your father in Seattle?”

A voice came from inside the hall, “Nora?”

Nora also looked inside, “Charles?”

The scene was a bit chaotic.

Anson picked up Nora's suitcase and made way, “Mom, come in and talk first.”

Looking outside, Anson searched the street for paparazzi.

Anson also knew that if the media wanted to, they could easily dig up the Wood family; and the Wood family was already mentally prepared to accept the possible exposure calmly and calmly.

But honestly, Anson didn't want their lives to be harassed by paparazzi.

Work and life are, after all, two different things.

Nora looked at Charles with surprise, “Why are you here? I thought you weren't coming to Los Angeles until next week.”

Charles, “I haven't decided whether to take this job yet. If it officially starts, it will be next week; but I wanted to talk to the client in person before deciding. As a result, Johnny Depp said he was only free these two days and would be flying to the Caribbean for vacation next week, so I came over early.”

“What about you, did you just get off the plane?”

Nora nodded, “Yes, Getty has a project and wants to talk to me about it. I thought I should come and see Anson, so I came directly after getting off the plane.”

You said one thing, I said another, weaving together to piece together a fragmented truth.

Anson carried the suitcase inside, “Although the house doesn't look big, trust me, the space inside is very spacious. You can choose any corner to continue the conversation, instead of standing there at the door.”

A small joke attracted Charles and Nora's attention, and smiles couldn't help but climb onto the corners of their mouths.

Anson turned around and saw this scene. Charles and Nora were exchanging glances, both of them looking very surprised, not expecting to meet here.

It seems that this is a coincidence…?

Anson jokingly said, “If Lucas was standing at the door now, things would be interesting.”

As if by magic—

Knock knock.

As soon as Anson finished speaking, someone really knocked on the door.

The air briefly solidified.

Anson looked at Charles and Nora, and Charles and Nora also looked at Anson with surprised expressions.

Anson, “Are you sure it's not Lucas outside?”

Nora waved her hands repeatedly, “How would we know who's outside?”

Anson's pupils narrowed slightly, something was wrong.

Although it was just a feeling, every cell in Anson's body sensed the abnormality.

This time, Anson didn't say much. He carefully observed Charles and Nora's expressions, returned to the door again, and opened it.

“Hey, Anson!”

Who else could that smiling face be but Lucas-Wood!