Darling, Don't Get Rid of Me novel Chapter 113

Weksey and Harriet had a quiet breakfast. Harriet was distracted, as she was wondering how to deal with those journalists when they went out.

Unlike Weksey, she could barely ignore the gossips as a movie star. Besides, Allen's words had been lingering in her mind annoyingly.

“Don't you like the breakfast?” Weksey broke the ice by noticing her tangled look.

Harriet looked up and asked an irrelevant question, “What's the relationship between us now? You can't go out and tell the press it's a late-night discussion about a script contract, can you?”

She might be suffocated if she didn’t ask.

Weksey enjoyed his breakfast and replied at a slow pace, “Whatever you want.”

If she wanted to commit herself into an open and official relationship with him, he would love to satisfy her. He might be attacked by public opinion, no big deal at all.

But Harriet didn’t expect him to understand what she meant. He just popped up his own thoughts all the time.

“Are you leaving the decision to me?” Harriet finally made up her mind, as she seemed to be stronger than she was before.

Weksey responded with an imperceptibly soft voice, “Yes.”

Suddenly, Harriet suddenly felt so sad that even the announcement of separation had to be borne by her alone in the end.

“Thank you in advance, Mr. Smith.”

She appreciated him for letting her go with freedom.

“What did you call me?” Weksey rose his eyebrows and stared at her with a deep look.

Harriet smiled bitterly. He still complained about his title at this time.

Unfortunately, she had to follow what he said until the last minute. He was in control of their relationship.

“Weksey” She changed the title with a peaceful state of mind, “Thank you for looking after me these years, plus help me find my little brother.”

Upon hearing it, Weksey felt relieved. She wasn’t addled to forget about how much he valued her.

Harriet started to clean up straight away.

A flash of discontent came across, but Weksey didn't speak much after.

She didn’t seem to be very happy when their relationship was confirmed officially.

After half an hour, she dressed herself up and walked out decently with Weksey. The dedicated journalists rushed forward, clicking their cameras all the time.

“How would you explain your overnight stay at Mr. Smith's place?”

“Do you know that Mr. Smith’s fiancée is pregnant?”

“Did Mr. Smith go specially to look for you yesterday at the party?”

Harriet remained calm for one caustic question after another.

These reporters were cowardly bullies. They yelled at her, rather than questioning Weksey directly for what they want.

Harriet cracked a smile. She took the microphone from a reporter, and responded in a serene voice.

“Yes. Just as you think, I’m a mistress of Mr. Smith.”

The journalists burst into an uproar. They didn’t expect her to confess flatly. In the meantime, Weksey pulled a long face aside.

“I hit on Mr. Smith and being persistent to him. As you know, the water is rough in the entertainment industry. I cannot let my patron go for sure. But please rest easy, Miss. Louisa. Mr. Smith passionately devotes himself to you. I just get paid by him to be his mistress.”

She was relaxed with what she said in the camera, and shouldered all the responsibilities for Weksey.

“When did you start to be the mistress of Mr. Smith?”

“Do you have anything to say, Mr. Smith?”

Finally, there was a reporter who tried to get a word from Weksey fearlessly.

However, Weksey didn’t pay attention to anyone except Harriet. His eyes fell on her all the time. While he turned an indifferent look after Harriet's speech, all his tenderness vanished completely with what she said.

She really wanted to leave him.

“Mr. Smith?” The reporter kept asking brazenly.

Weksey responded with a contemptuous look. He got choked off in panic. Then he moved the microphone back to Harriet.

“I hope you won’t regret.”

Weksey left the words to her and got on Jack's car. He trotted off.

Harriet was there by herself, trying her best to get away from the tangled reporters.

What would she regret for? She finally got the chance to leave him. She would accept any nonsense talk from the public, as long as she had her freedom back. Now that her little brother died, no one in this world deserved her concern anymore.

She chicly left the villa and arrived at her rental apartment. After a cleanup of Weksey’s stuff, she called Jack up.

“Is this Jack? This is Harriet. Do you have time to come over and pick Mr. Smith's stuff for him?”

Jack checked with Weksey in a soft voice. Then he responded after a quick silence, “Mr. Smith said that you could just throw them away.”

Harriet lost her thoughts.

She was speechless when the phone got hung up.

He decided to have no contact with her after their breakup?

Harriet fleered. She classified his stuff, and went out with a garbage bag.

“It’s been a while, Mrs. Clark.” Len had his door open. He made a greeting when she came out.

“Are you going out, Mr. Davis?” Harriet looked up with a smile.

“Yes. Let me help you with that.”

He was about to get her bag. But Harriet tried to avoid him subconsciously, “I'm Okay.” The bag lay on the floor.

The scene got awkward at once. Len bent down to pick them up with a wry smile, “I can carry it for you.”

Harriet coughed with embarrassment. She clearly remembered how weak Len was when they first met. She did have scruple of that. And that was the reason she rejected his help at first.

“I'm sorry. I don't want to bother you.”

Len placed the mugs back, “We are neighbors. It's OK to help each other sometimes.”

He paused when seeing men’s supplies in the bag. He remained in hesitation.

“What do you want to know?” Harriet didn’t like to bluster around.

“You left for a few days already. I was supposed to come forward with a friendly greeting. You seem to break up with your boyfriend, and move back from his place?”

Harriet twitched her mouth. She got up with the bag in her hand, “You must be joking, Mr. Davis. I don’t have a boyfriend. Weksey is just my partner at work.”

Partners tended to satisfy needs for each other. It seemed to be a good deal to exchange her body with a decent work in the entertainment industry.

Len followed her to the elevator with knitted brows. Seeing the worried look on his face, Harriet started to make fun of him, “You seem to care a lot about me, Mr. Davis.”

Len flushed. He lowered his head down in shame, “We are neighbors. So...”

“Fine. We are neighbors. A good neighbor is better than a distant relative. So we need to help each other, right?” Harriet followed what he said. Len was even more embarrassed by her words.