"Just like that, you're taking her? I-I-I—there's still a dinner!"
The assistant didn't dare to shout Lydia Brooke's name loudly, so they only took out their phone and sent a message to Lydia Brooke.
"Lydia Brooke, what about the dinner? This is Director Chapman's dinner! If you don't go..."
Lydia Brooke, sitting in Jorge Saxton's car, replied to the message: "Cancel it, just say I can't make it."
Lydia Brooke held the phone in her hand and looked at the person in the driver's seat, "You've been following me all day, what exactly do you want? I still have work."
Jorge Saxton glanced at Lydia Brooke, his face sullen: "Lydia Brooke, you don't lack money, why are you working so hard?"
Won't you rest when you're injured? Can't you cancel engagements?
You were dancing at a fan meeting even with an injured foot!
Jorge Saxton's anger surged, overwhelming.
