CHAPTER 200: CHAPTER 200: WISH I COULD SLAP YOU (PART 1)

Sophie Smith has had no announcements in recent days, but she constantly stares at her phone, hoping Julia Brown will call and ask her to come to the company. However, things don’t go as she wishes, and the phone is silent, not even a spam call.

She helplessly looks at the Hush Sky Group’s gala invitation sent by Oliver Johnson in her hand, not knowing what to do for a moment.

She definitely doesn’t want to go. If Asher Land finds out, he will definitely...

To be honest, the consequences would be severe, and Sophie doesn’t even dare to think about them.

The door to the master bedroom suddenly opens, and Sophie panics, casually throwing the invitation under the quilt.

"What are you doing? Sneaky?" Asher Land suspiciously looks at her.

"What do you mean sneaky? Aren’t you just not fond of me?" Sophie retorts.

"..." He is rendered speechless.

He says nothing, walks out again, and instructs the maid to bring several outfits from the cloakroom.

"Do you have a social engagement tonight?" It looks like he’s going out.

"Yeah," he replies casually.

That’s good. Sophie breathes a sigh of relief in her heart; this way, she can go to the Hush Sky Gala without being discovered by him.

"So you’ll probably come back late tonight?"

Just to be sure, she asks again.

"Why are you asking so much?"

"Oh, I mean, if you come back late, I won’t wait up for you; I’ll go to bed first."

"I see..." He curls his lips, "You go to bed first; if I have any needs when I come back at night, I’ll wake you up."

"You..."

Shameless! She naturally knows what he means by ’needs.’ Even when she’s asleep, he won’t let her go?

Her face flushes red, and the smile at the corner of Asher Land’s mouth deepens.

...

In the evening, watching Asher Land drive away, Sophie then picks up the dress and changes into it.

This dress was prepared for her by Asher Land last time, meant for her to attend the Golden Era Gala.

However, she decides to wear it to the Hush Sky Gala instead.

The phone on the table vibrates, and Sophie picks it up to see that the incoming call display reads Mr. Johnson.

Oliver Johnson.

"Hello," she answers softly.

"Where are you? I’ll come pick you up."

"Oh, no need!" How can she still bother him? "I’ll just drive myself over."

"I better come pick you up; it doesn’t look good for a girl to drive herself over to a gala." Even over the phone, she can sense his gentle nature.

"Really, don’t trouble yourself, thank you, Mr. Johnson."

How could he not hear the formality and distance in her tone?

"Alright, be careful on your way," he advises.

"Okay."

After hanging up the phone, she hurriedly goes downstairs. It’s a bit inconvenient wearing high heels, so she just grabs a pair of flat shoes and changes, planning to swap back when she gets to the gala.

"Miss Smith, are you going out?"

Nanny Garcia looks at her, dressed so formally, with some surprise.

The young master has just left, and Miss Smith can’t wait to follow him out?

"Yes, I have a filming announcement tonight." She finds a random excuse and leaves, then runs to the garage to get a car.

High society’s galas are always exceptionally glamorous. Sophie gets out of the car and is immediately greeted by a waiter, who takes her car keys and parks it for her.

She steps into the gala with graceful steps, calm on the outside but anxious on the inside.

"Miss Smith."

Sophie suddenly turns around to see Oliver Johnson in a white suit, holding a glass of champagne, smiling as he looks at her.