“Hello.”
“Yeah.”
Yeah? Who answers a call like this?
Taking another glance at the number on her phone, Megan felt weird but also found the voice familiar, so she asked, “Who's on the line?”
“Who do you think I am?” The man sounded displeased. Megan was taken aback as she realized that he was Jake.
Hence, she replied tentatively, “Mr. Wilson?”
Hearing the way she addressed him, Jake was displeased. Turning around on his chair at the desk, he looked at a piece of painting on the wall with an indifferent gaze.
“Did I say you can call me like that? That was not what you called me when we were in bed.”
At this, Megan froze as her face went crimson. Why must he bring this up? How can he still talk about what happened yesterday so calmly?
“Sorry. I forgot. So why did you call me?” Megan did not want to dwell on the form of address, so she hurriedly changed the subject.
Sensing her annoyance, Jake raised his eyebrows and dropped the subject as he was confident that he could make her stop using such an alienated way to address him.
“Has the stuff arrive?”
Stuff?
Megan was stunned for a moment before she remembered that she had not told him that she had returned all the clothes.
It's not too late to tell him now. Holding the phone, Megan pondered about it in silence.
Having heard no reply from her, Jake raised his eyebrows and prompted her in a louder voice, “Hey, talk to me”
“What is there to talk about?” Megan was still in a daze. All of a sudden, she thought of something and hurriedly added, “Yeah, I've received them, but there are too many of them, and my place is small, so I didn't take the clothes.”
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