"Good morning, Luo An."
Pfft—
At half-past ten in the morning, on the second floor of the villa, Luo An spat out the toothpaste foam while brushing his teeth and casually replied:
"Good morning, Mr. Morgan."
The caller was the old man with tea-colored glasses that Luo An had met at the club before, Mr. Morgan.
While washing his face, Luo An asked:
"What's up so early, Mr. Morgan?"
"Young people, it's almost noon and you still think it's early."
Mr. Morgan's voice was hearty and cheerful over the phone as he went straight to the point:
"I happen to be in Washington D.C. these days, how about we go out for dinner tonight?"
"No problem."
Luo An, after drying his face, agreed and after exchanging a few pleasantries, Mr. Morgan took the initiative to hang up the phone.
Just then, Mona, rubbing her eyes, pushed the door and walked into the room, letting out a big yawn and asked casually:
"Who was that?"
"Someone from the club."
