Time-Limited Love: A Contract Expired, Not Renewed novel Chapter 89

Charles suddenly realized he was acting like a worrywart mother—always fretting over everyone and everything.

“All right, all right, get back to work. Sooner or later, Mrs. Ford will visit the office and you’ll have your chance to meet her.”

The secretaries, obedient as ever, scattered and busied themselves at their desks.

Except for Yvonne, his chief assistant, who lingered with a teasing grin. “Charles, what did Mrs. Ford say over the phone? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Charles shot her a look, clearly annoyed, but didn’t bother to explain. He just waved her off with a brusque, “You wouldn’t get it. Just mind your own work and stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Once he’d managed to send Yvonne on her way, Charles retreated to his own office. The memory of Zinnia’s call still made him break out in a cold sweat. He thumped his chest in mock relief—he was supposed to be the CEO’s senior executive assistant, but sometimes he felt more like the man’s personal conscience.

That phone call from the boss was a warning, plain and simple. Landon wanted time alone with his wife. Charles knew better than to intrude on that. If he were foolish enough to try and “take care” of the CEO right now, Landon might actually ship him off to Africa for good.

At least then, Charles thought with a wry grin, he’d be contributing to international development.

The more he considered it, the more convinced he was that hanging up quickly was the smartest thing he’d done all week.

Meanwhile, Zinnia stared at her phone, frowning at how fast Charles had ended the call.

“What’s the rush?” she muttered. Clearly, Landon wasn’t the easiest person to look after—if even Charles, usually so good-natured, bolted at the suggestion, what hope did she have?

Grumbling to herself, Zinnia crossed the hallway and knocked gently on the master bedroom door.

The door was only slightly ajar. Before she could even finish knocking, Landon’s voice drifted out, roughened by a cough. “Come in.”

But Zinnia didn’t step inside. She just pushed the door open a little more and stayed in the doorway, addressing Landon, who was sitting on the sofa.

What on earth had she said now? Was every sick person this unreasonable?

From the look on her face, Landon could tell she had absolutely no idea what she’d done wrong. That sense of helplessness—like punching a pillow—washed over him again.

“You keep bringing up Noelle. Isn’t that just trying to get under my skin?”

“What?” Zinnia’s confusion only deepened.

For heaven’s sake, she’d meant well. Everyone said that having someone you care about nearby helps you recover faster. Why did Landon think she was provoking him by suggesting Noelle come to their marital home to look after him?

Zinnia just frowned in frustration, completely at a loss.