The chaotic day passed, and it was finally quiet.
Edison Holden insisted on not going to the hospital, so Carson Holden had no choice but to take him home.
He and Brooke Morrison both stayed behind to care for him.
Meanwhile, the three from the younger generation—Jensen Morrison, Nathan Rowan, and Ivy Holden—sat in the living room, completely ignoring one another.
In the bedroom, Mr.
Holden finally fell into a deep sleep.
Carson Holden decided to make do on the nearby sofa for the night, and Brooke Morrison covered him with a blanket before tiptoeing out of the bedroom.
“You’ve all had a long day.
Don’t feel like you need to wait here.
Go home and get some rest.
I’ll call you if anything comes up,” Brooke Morrison said to the three younger people in the living room.
Ivy Holden got up and tugged on Nathan Rowan’s arm.
“You’re coming with me.”
“Where are you going this late?” Nathan Rowan asked, puzzled.
“No more questions!
Let’s go!” With that, Ivy Holden pulled Nathan Rowan out of the house in a hurry.
Brooke Morrison frowned at Jensen Morrison and asked in a low voice, “What’s wrong with Ivy?”
“I don’t know.
I’ll go see.” Jensen Morrison grabbed his jacket and walked out.
“Drive safe!
And call me if anything happens.” Anxious, Brooke Morrison followed him to the door and watched her son drive off before letting out a helpless sigh.
As the artsy type who ran a bar, Nathan Rowan drove a red Jeep.
Normally, Ivy Holden would have snatched the keys to take charge.
This time, however, she had important business to attend to.
She had dragged Nathan out to be her driver, so she headed straight for the passenger seat.
As soon as she got in, she started scrolling through her emails on her phone.
Nathan Rowan drove out of the faculty housing complex, glanced at Ivy Holden, and asked, “Where are we going?”
“To your bar,” Ivy Holden said as she dialed a phone number.
Nathan Rowan didn’t ask any more questions and drove straight toward his bar.
Ivy’s call went through.
A woman’s languid voice came through the receiver.
“Hello, who’s this?”
“Ms.
Tyson, it’s me, Ivy Holden.” Ivy tried her best to make her voice sound sweet and harmless.
“Are you asleep already?
I’m so sorry to bother you.”
“Oh, it’s you!” The voice on the other end immediately became much more alert.
“Are you calling at this hour because you’ve changed your mind?”
“We can talk about the script adaptation later.
Right now, I have something else I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Something else?” The person on the other end gave a lazy yawn and asked listlessly, “Besides the script, what is there for us to talk about?”
“Of course there is.
For instance, the selection of a special guest for *Song of Time*.
I think I might be able to help you with that.”
“What?
Did I hear you right?”
Ivy Holden just smiled.
Instead of answering, she posed a question of her own.
“Ms.
Tyson, I’m guessing you don’t know my father is Carson Holden, do you?”
“You… you’re Carson Holden’s daughter?!” For an entertainment show producer, the daughter of Carson Holden was a far more valuable asset than some trendy new online author.
“I had a falling out with my dad a few years ago.
It’s been five or six years since I’ve been home.
But a father-daughter relationship isn’t something you can just make up…”
“Where are you?
I’ll come to you.
We can talk in person.”
Ivy Holden smiled with satisfaction.
“I’ll send you my location.
See you in twenty minutes.”
After hanging up, Ivy Holden leaned her head back against the seat and let out a long sigh of relief.
“Why are you meeting with someone from *Song of Time*?” Nathan Rowan asked, puzzled.
“To discuss business, of course,” Ivy Holden casually brushed him off.
Nathan Rowan glanced at her.
Seeing her typing away on her phone, he didn’t press the issue.
Jensen Morrison had been following Nathan’s car the whole time.
When he saw the flashy Jeep park in front of the bar, he pulled over to the side, planning to turn around and head home to bed.
Just then, however, a yellow Beetle drove up from the opposite direction, turned left at the intersection, passed right in front of him, and parked next to the red Jeep.
Jensen happened to recognize the car: it belonged to Jessica Tyson, the creator and producer of the provincial station’s show, *Song of Time*.
‘What is she doing here?
A coincidence?
It can’t be.
Nathan’s bar isn’t the sort of place these people gather.’ With that in mind, Jensen abandoned the thought of getting out of his car, deciding to wait and see.
In the innermost private room of Deep Blue Bar, Nathan Rowan personally mixed two Blue Margaritas and placed them in front of Ivy Holden and Jessica Tyson.
“Ms.
Tyson, this is Nathan Rowan, my aunt Arlene Holden’s son.
He’s my cousin.” Ivy gestured to him.
“But he’s a bit of a black sheep, like me.
Instead of becoming a musician like the family wanted, he opened this little bar to get by.” Ivy smiled as she introduced Nathan, a deliberate move to reinforce her own family connections to Jessica Tyson.
Jessica Tyson sized Nathan Rowan up and nodded.
“While I wouldn’t say I know Ms.
Holden well, we’ve met a few times.
You look a lot like her.”
“My mom always says I only inherited her good looks, not her talent,” Nathan Rowan said with a self-deprecating smile.
He then put a hand on Ivy Holden’s shoulder and said, “President Tyson, I’ll let you two talk.
I have some things to take care of, so I’ll get back to it.”
Jessica Tyson nodded politely, watched Nathan Rowan leave, and then shook her head with a sigh.
“I always knew President Holden had a daughter, but I never imagined it was you.
I’d heard the Holden family’s daughter was studying abroad.
How come you…”
“Studying abroad?” Ivy Holden gave a self-deprecating laugh and shook her head.
“My dad probably made that up because he felt I was an embarrassment to him.
But it’s true I haven’t made much of myself these past few years.
I’ve been a disgrace to the family.”
Jessica Tyson was in her forties and had a thirteen-year-old daughter who was just entering her rebellious phase, so she was particularly sympathetic to conflicts between kids and their parents.
Upon hearing Ivy’s words, her heart softened.
“Oh, please,” she said quickly.
“It’s normal for young people to have their own ideas.
What matters is that you kids eventually come to understand all your parents do for you.”
Ivy Holden quickly seized the opportunity, raised her glass, and said, “You’re right, Ms.
Tyson.
That’s why this time, I want to do something to make both my grandfather and my father happy.”
Jessica Tyson raised her glass and clinked it against Ivy’s.
“Your new book is quite good,” she said.
“I have a friend who’s very interested in it and wants to buy the film and television rights.”
Ivy Holden shook her head frantically.
“You don’t understand, Ms.
Tyson.
Just yesterday, my dad was calling my writing ‘nonsense’ and saying I’m wasting my life.
If he found out about this, he definitely wouldn’t be pleased.”
“Alright, then.
To think that accomplishments others would envy are considered ‘wasting your life’ in President Holden’s eyes,” Jessica Tyson teased with a smile.
Ivy Holden opened WeChat on her phone.
“Ms.
Tyson, would it be alright if I added you on WeChat?”
“Of course.” Jessica Tyson took out her own phone, pulled up her WeChat QR code, and let Ivy Holden scan it.