Chapter 109: Which Miss Whitman?
Zoe Grant came downstairs, staring blankly at this legendary "maternal grandfather."
’He couldn’t help but wonder.’
’The kid called Adrian Grant "Godfather" and our parents "Grandpa" and "Grandma."’
’And this man is his maternal grandfather... Don’t tell me his daughter is the kid’s godmother?’
"This is...?"
After coming downstairs, Zoe Grant took the initiative to ask.
Zoe wasn’t the only one who was baffled; Franklin Whitman was also taken aback for a moment.
This was the first time he had ever seen Zoe Grant.
But seeing him in this house, and at roughly the same age as Adrian Grant, it only took him a second to guess who he was.
Jonathan Grant made the introduction. "This is my second son."
"And this is the chairman of the Whitman Group."
Franklin Whitman chuckled. "Well now, Mr. Grant, I never knew you had a son this old! I’ve never heard a thing. You’ve certainly kept him well hidden."
"It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir," Zoe Grant said politely. He paused, glanced down at Ryan Grant, then looked back at Franklin Whitman and asked, "Are you here to pick this little guy up?"
’As an outsider in all this, if I hadn’t run into them this morning, I’d still be completely in the dark.’
"Haha, yes. The little one called me last night and said he missed me."
Zoe Grant crouched down and ruffled Ryan Grant’s hair. "Why not stay a couple more days?"
Ryan Grant smoothed his ruffled hair, blinked, and said honestly, "You’re no fun, Uncle. You ask me test questions every day. I don’t like it."
Jonathan Grant snorted. "If you’ve got nothing better to do, then get to the office. You’ve been back for a while now, just lazing around at home every day. Have you no shame?"
Zoe Grant: "?"
’I’ve only been back for less than two days.’
Not wanting to pry into their family affairs, Franklin Whitman made an excuse to Jonathan Grant and left with the child.
However, they had barely left when Gavin Grant’s car pulled up. The person who emerged was a white-haired old man leaning on a cane.
He glanced at the shoe rack by the door. "Why are there a kid’s shoes here? Did Ryan visit?"
"He was here for two days," Jonathan explained. "With Zoe back, Adrian was probably worried, so he had Ryan go stay with Franklin Whitman."
Gavin Grant sounded displeased. "The boy was here and you didn’t even tell me?"
Jonathan Grant hadn’t even thought about it. The day the boy arrived was the same day he’d learned from Adrian Grant that Zoe was missing. He’d been so busy running around the past few days that he’d completely forgotten about the child.
When Adrian had told him earlier this morning that Franklin Whitman was coming to pick up the boy, he had thought it was for the best, as the child would otherwise feel neglected.
It would be better to bring the boy back after they’d sorted things out with Zoe.
"Zoe just returned, so I got busy and forgot."
Faced with his father’s questioning, Jonathan Grant had no choice but to use Zoe as a shield.
Zoe Grant, who had just emerged from the kitchen: "..."
"Grandpa," he called out.
Gavin Grant was completely taken aback. "You’re back? Why didn’t you say a word? We haven’t heard a peep from you in years. I thought you’d died somewhere."
"..."
"..."
’I really did almost die out there,’ he thought. ’He just doesn’t know about it.’
Zoe Grant immediately looked for an escape. "Right, well, I should probably head to the office."
When he arrived at the company, he noticed a tall woman at the front desk holding a bouquet of flowers.
"Please deliver this bouquet to your President Grant, Adrian Grant."
Zoe Grant stopped in his tracks. Hearing his brother’s name, he backed up a step to get a better look at the woman.
He then noticed she had wavy hair and was wearing sunglasses and a hat. On closer inspection, it was impossible to make out her features.
The receptionist looked troubled. "I’m sorry, ma’am, but President Grant doesn’t accept flower deliveries."
Ever since Adrian Grant had been appointed to the head office, a steady stream of women had tried all sorts of excuses to send him flowers and gifts, or even just to meet him.
’So cautious?’ Caroline Whitman thought.
After a moment’s thought, she added, "I know your President Grant."
Having heard similar claims many times before, the receptionist maintained a professional smile. "In that case, ma’am, do you have an appointment?"
"No, I’m just here to drop something off."
"...I’m sorry, ma’am. Without an appointment, I can’t take the flowers up for you."
Seeing the woman’s elegant demeanor, the receptionist thought for a moment and offered a solution. "Perhaps you could contact President Grant directly. Once we receive his verbal confirmation, we can deliver the flowers for you."
Caroline Whitman: "..."
’If I wanted to just announce who I was, would I be going through all this trouble?’
’It was all for the sake of giving him a "surprise."’
As she was hesitating, Zoe Grant spoke up. "Miss, are you trying to send some flowers?"
Caroline Whitman turned and saw a young, handsome face.
"President Grant." The receptionist, a long-time employee, was startled to see Zoe Grant and quickly greeted him.
While Caroline Whitman was still trying to figure out which "President Grant" this was, Zoe Grant had already taken the bouquet. "What’s your name? I can take it up for you."
Caroline Whitman’s gaze fell on the flowers in his hands. Since things had come to this, she had no choice but to state her name. "My surname is Whitman."
"Whitman... as in, from the Whitman Group?" Zoe Grant raised an eyebrow.
’I just met my "god-nephew’s" grandfather this morning, and now I’ve run into his godmother?’
"..."
Caroline Whitman simply nodded, not wanting to linger. "Then I’ll leave it in your hands."
With that, she turned and left.
Zoe Grant immediately took the flowers to the private elevator and went straight to Adrian Grant’s office.
Adrian Grant was at his desk organizing company files when he heard the door open. Before he could even look up, Zoe Grant’s voice rang out.
"Bro, flowers for you. Some girl was trying to send them to you downstairs. I saw the receptionist was giving her a hard time, so I brought them up. No need to thank me."
He placed the bouquet on Adrian’s desk, then flopped onto the sofa and casually picked up a magazine from the coffee table.
At that, Adrian Grant paused his work, raising his eyes to glance at the flowers. He frowned. "You have no right to accept flowers on my behalf."
"Oh, so you don’t like them? I wonder if I go back downstairs now if I’ll be able to find Miss Whitman to return them."
Adrian Grant froze. "Which Miss Whitman?"
"Probably the Miss Whitman who’s the daughter of the Whitman Group’s chairman. You know, the one who came to our house this morning to pick up your godson."
"..."
"Ah. In that case, thanks."
"..."
Zoe Grant found this amusing. "You definitely should thank me. If I hadn’t happened to run into her, she’d still be stuck at the reception desk."
"Seriously, bro? You’re just gonna let the girl do all the chasing?"
"Speaking of which, she’s the kid’s godmother, right?"
After returning, Zoe Grant had gotten a rough idea of the situation with the child.
He had apparently traveled back in time from the future.
As a materialist, he would never have believed such a thing before. But Adrian had found him based on a location the child himself had provided.
That point alone was impossible to explain away.
Adrian Grant didn’t answer. He just stood up and tossed a stack of files in front of Zoe Grant.
"These are the company’s financial reports from the years you were missing, plus the current projects. Since you’re here now, you can start getting familiar with them."
Zoe Grant: "..."
---
Caroline Whitman had only just left when she received a message from Adrian Grant.
Seeing the red notification dot next to his name, she felt a flicker of nervousness.
Adrian Grant: [Thanks for the flowers. Next time, just call me directly.]