Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 121

Amelia stared at the note in her hand, seriously doubting Sophia’s claim that her parents were lonely old folks. From what she’d seen, the Taylors didn’t look even a little bit lonely—their lives seemed busy and full.

Sophia coughed awkwardly. “Honestly, my mom’s cooking isn’t anything special. Let’s not torture ourselves with her food for our first meal in Elm City.”

Trying to salvage her dignity, Sophia splurged on a buffet dinner for the two of them at one of the nicest restaurants in town.

After stuffing herself, Amelia wandered over to the colorful ice cream freezer, torn between having another bite of Häagen-Dazs or calling it quits. That’s when her phone rang—Grandma Edith’s name popped up on the screen.

“Amelia, you’re on break now, aren’t you? It’s almost New Year’s. Why don’t you come stay with your old grandma for a few days?”

The thought of ice cream lost all appeal. “Grandma, I… I’m not spending the holiday with the Campbell family this year.”

Grandma Edith was silent for a moment, then offered a solution. “I get it. You just don’t want to see that rascal Daniel. Fine by me. You wait—I’ll deal with him, and when I’m done, you can come.”

When Grandma Edith called, Daniel had just wrapped up a meeting.

The days before New Year’s were always the busiest at his firm; year-end reports, financial summaries, profit statements—there was hardly a moment to breathe.

“Well, look who it is—the busy man himself. Still at the office this late? I bet you’ve spent half your day running off to that hospital again.”

Daniel switched on the speakerphone, set his phone on the desk, and kept reviewing documents, scribbling notes in the margins. “Come on, Grandma, can you stop teasing me after meals? I really am swamped. If there’s something you need, just say it.”

Grandma Edith snorted, “Fine, get back to work. But don’t come crying to me when your wife leaves you.”

Daniel’s pen froze. He picked up the phone and switched it back to the receiver, holding it to his ear. “You’re too old to be speaking in riddles. One day you’ll give yourself indigestion, swallowing half your words like that.”

“Hmph. Mind your own business,” Grandma Edith huffed.

Daniel sometimes wondered if Amelia was really her granddaughter. That infuriating tone was exactly the same.

Grandma Edith didn’t drag it out any longer. “I just called Amelia. From the accent in the background, I’m guessing she’s in Elm City now, isn’t she?”

…

The next day, the Taylors, feeling guilty about neglecting Amelia the day before, got up at dawn and went to the market to buy a mountain of groceries.

But just before noon, after seeing a hotpot feast on TV, they changed their minds at the last minute. “Let’s go out for hotpot instead!”

That was just how people in Elm City lived—spur-of-the-moment and carefree.

They picked a Sichuan-style hotpot place, snagging a window seat right across from a giant digital billboard advertising a new luxury apartment complex.

Mrs. Bess Taylor, munching on watermelon to cool her tongue, chatted idly. “The Browns are really something these days. They keep launching new properties—business is booming.”

Mr. Don Taylor nodded, “There are only two big families in Elm City—the Browns and the Scotts. Now that the Scotts have fallen, the Browns pretty much run the show.”

Mrs. Taylor frowned, trying to recall something from years ago. “What ever happened to the Scott family, anyway? They just… disappeared.”

Mr. Taylor, ever the gossip, replied, “Who knows what goes on in those circles? I did hear the Scotts had a younger daughter, but no one knows where she ended up.”

“What are you staring at?” Sophia asked, seeing her friend lost in thought.

“Nothing,” Amelia said with a soft smile. She felt like Elm City really was a mystical place. She’d only been here a day, and already it felt strangely familiar—like she’d stepped through a portal into another life.

They pedaled on, light and shadow flickering over them. A black Rolls-Royce glided past, so close they could almost see their reflections in the glossy paint.

“Stop the car.”

A voice rang out from the back seat.

The driver hesitated. “Mr. Brown, aren’t we headed to the office?”

The figure in the backseat was there and gone in a flash, as if conjured by the sunlight. He took off his glasses and rubbed his brow, sighing. “Keep going. We’re already late for the meeting.”

…

After a while, their legs started to ache, so Sophia suggested they return the bike and stroll home with some bubble tea.

The bike drop-off was across a busy street, so they slowed down, waiting for a gap in traffic.

Suddenly, a black car screeched to a halt right in front of them. Sophia opened her mouth, ready to curse, when the door swung open and a pair of long legs, sharp in tailored trousers, stepped out.

The words died on her lips.