Reborn as Mr.CEO’s Fat Wife
Chapter 936: Wife, You’re So Cold

Chapter 936: Chapter 936: Wife, You’re So Cold

"It’s nothing, I’ve been busy since I got off the plane. What were you doing just now?" Mary Scott didn’t want to argue with David Locke about whether the phone call came earlier or later.

"I was at the restaurant. Your brother’s cooking is terrible, and he’s nowhere near as considerate as you. When are you coming back? Without you here, I can’t even take a proper shower at night." David Locke complained nonchalantly while holding his phone.

Mary Scott chuckled at the first part but blushed when she heard the second. Feeling the curious gaze of gossip around her, she quickly redirected the man on the other end of the call, "Your leg isn’t even healed yet; what are you showering for? I’ll come back once filming is done."

"Honey, you’re so cold...." David Locke, sensing Mary Scott’s urgency and slightly stiff tone, suddenly sounded aggrieved.

Mary Scott froze, tensing up as she looked up to see everyone in the vehicle staring at her, some already suppressing laughter. Nobody had expected the side of Director Locke they just overheard on Mary Scott’s phone.

Already flustered by David Locke calling her "honey," Mary Scott glanced at the others’ expressions, and her heart raced. "Speak properly! I ... I’m in the crew’s vehicle right now."

"What does being in the crew’s vehicle have to do with anything? Don’t tell me the crew forbids you from calling your husband?" David Locke’s tone was filled with dissatisfaction, accompanied by a hint of sulkiness.

Listening to his annoyed tone, Mary Scott immediately whispered, "Everyone’s listening; be mindful of what you say."

"Oh."

The obvious pause from the other end of the call made everyone in the vehicle burst into laughter. Mary Scott quietly breathed a sigh of relief, only to hear David Locke tone down his playful attitude and speak in a serious and cold voice, "Finish filming early and come home. Avoid chatting with irrelevant folks and eating too much of the crew’s meat. When you’re home, I’ll cook for you. I’ll hang up now."

Without waiting for Mary Scott’s reply, David Locke abruptly ended the call.

Mary Scott’s face turned beet red. "Haha, he’s like that sometimes—quite the jokester."

After she said that, the car became especially quiet, so quiet, it made Mary Scott feel uneasy. She tried to say, "Um, we’ll soon get to the ho—"

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

Before Mary Scott finished her sentence, a burst of laughter exploded, led by someone before others couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Mary Scott’s face grew even redder from the laughter, while Stella Murray pointed at her and teased, "Who would’ve thought Director Locke would be like this!"

"Honey, you’re so cold... oh my gosh, goosebumps all over!" James Jerome mimicked the line before shivering dramatically.

Stella Murray deliberately straightened her face and seriously intoned, "Finish filming early and come home. Avoid chatting with irrelevant folks and keep away from the crew’s meat...."

Mary Scott’s face heated further, while Zoe Thatcher clutched her belly laughing. Even Adam Piers and Brian Joule couldn’t escape the contagious humor. Who would’ve thought Director Locke had such a dual personality in private?

Simon Baker subtly gave David Locke a thumbs-up in his mind. He truly lived up to his reputation as Director Locke.

The live-stream audience—including those ready to criticize Mary Scott—were stunned into silence. They dumbly listened to the conversation between the two, witnessing David Locke’s abrupt change of tone and rethinking their earlier comments claiming their marriage was fake. At this moment, embarrassment hit them hard.

From David Locke’s earlier attitude, there was no way Mary Scott was the one clinging to him. Instead, it appeared that David Locke was sticking to Mary Scott. He hadn’t just gotten off the plane, and he was already asking her when she’d return, even dropping cringe-worthy lines like "Honey, you’re so cold." What was on his mind?

Add to that the realization that Mary Scott’s phone was on speaker in the crew vehicle, making everyone react visibly—just perfect!

The stark contrast in David Locke’s tone when he warned Mary Scott not to talk to people or eat crew food: Normally, these words would come off as distasteful, signaling disdain toward Mary Scott. However, the context transformed them into pure jealousy. Everyone, both on-screen and off-screen, picked up on the pungent smell of jealousy in his voice.

This wasn’t just jealousy—it felt like a barrel of aged, old vinegar had been poured out.

Forget any notion of them having a bad relationship or merely being compatible appearance-wise—they were acting as if they’ve just fallen in love. What kind of situation was this?

No wonder Mary Scott had been hesitant about calling during filming; she must’ve feared that Director Locke’s overwhelming displays of clinginess would shock everyone.

Mary Scott became even more embarrassed as Stella Murray and James Jerome poked fun at her, rebuking the man in her heart: Was there something wrong with him today? But despite herself, she kept replaying his line "Honey, you’re so cold" in her head.

Ugh, was she under some kind of spell?

Finally arriving at the hotel brought a temporary reprieve from everyone’s teasing, and the first day of live-streaming concluded.

Mary Scott returned to her room with Mia Anderson and immediately dialed David Locke’s number.

This time, the call was picked up in no time. She sounded exasperated, "Why were you talking like that earlier? It’s going to trend on social media now; what are we supposed to do?"

"What did I say earlier?" David Locke feigned ignorance.

Mary Scott’s voice was tinged with embarrassment, "You know—what you said about me being your wife."

"Aren’t you my wife?" David Locke shot back.

Mary Scott faltered, "I guess...."

"And was your tone earlier not cold?" David Locke asked further.

Mary Scott reflected on her interaction earlier, realizing her tone had been terse due to the attention on her while answering his call. "It was a bit cold, but I was—"

"Then there’s no problem. What’s wrong with what I said?" David Locke didn’t care for her explanations, cutting her off with his conclusion.

Mary Scott sighed. Technically, he didn’t say anything wrong, but something still felt off to her, the faint furrow forming on her brow. "True, it wasn’t wrong, but—"

"As long as it’s not wrong. Did you eat anything after arriving at the hotel?" David Locke interrupted her again, his voice soft and warm.

For reasons unknown, his tender tone stirred the peculiar feeling his earlier "Honey, you’re so cold" had caused in her heart. It was as if a feather gently tickled her. Agitated, she answered, stiffly, "I arrived, but I haven’t had the chance yet."

"So you called me as soon as you arrived—because you missed me that much?" David Locke seized her words and twisted them skillfully into flirtation, his tone filled with teasing and charm.

Through the phone, Mary Scott felt utterly embarrassed and flustered, her face lighting up with heat. "Who misses you? I just wanted to ask. By the way, did you know Brian Joule joined our crew?"

"Yeah," David Locke acknowledged casually—how could he not?

It was part of Brian Joule’s conditions to join his new film.

Mary Scott heard his response and could mostly piece together the situation. She pursed her lips, unsure of how to thank him. After thinking it through, she said, "If you don’t like Alfred’s cooking, you can order delivery. Some restaurants should still be open since it’s the Third Day of the Lunar New Year."

"Want to eat you...." David Locke replied leisurely.

Mary Scott’s face, already red, burned like fire. "Can you be serious for once?"

Thankfully, the live stream wasn’t happening at this moment.

After her rebuttal, David Locke chuckled mischievously. "I haven’t even finished my sentence—why the rush? I meant I want to eat your cooking. What were you thinking about?"

"I..." Mary Scott spluttered, completely flustered yet not knowing how to respond. She realized he was intentionally messing with her.

"Whatever you’re thinking, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’ll be disappointed anyway. The doctor said my leg needs another half month to heal. Just wait a little longer, okay?" David Locke drawled lazily.

Mary Scott felt both annoyed and shy at his implication as though she were desperate and couldn’t wait any longer. She took a deep breath, "Don’t flatter yourself. Just shut up!"

And with that, she hung up the phone abruptly.

David Locke wasn’t bothered by the abrupt end to the conversation. Instead, he chuckled quietly in his villa, unable to hold back his laughter.

Mary Scott, however, was still fuming in her hotel room, her chest heaving in frustration. Even when Mia Anderson came over, she hadn’t fully calmed down.

"Mary, who made you so angry?" Mia asked with concern, noticing Mary Scott’s frazzled state.

Mary Scott shook her head, "Nothing—just the family dog annoying me."

"Since when do you have a dog, Mary?" Mia looked confused.

Mary Scott stiffened briefly, "Recently. Did you finish packing up? Let’s head down for dinner."

She spoke quickly and intended to leave immediately.

Mia, however, grabbed onto her arm. "Are you planning to go down like this, Mary?"

"What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?" Mary glanced at her outfit. She had secretly asked the cameraman earlier and found out there wouldn’t be a live stream tonight.

Mia sighed knowingly, realizing Mary Scott wasn’t aware of the evening’s importance. Leaning in close, she whispered, "Do you know who the producer of this show is?"

Mary Scott was puzzled. "Why should I care who it is?"

Mia sighed again and began explaining, "I just found out today—the show ’Wilderness’ is financed by Muse Entertainment. No wonder it’s so well-funded."

Mary Scott raised her eyebrows in surprise. She was aware of Muse Entertainment but hadn’t noticed that "Wilderness" was one of their investments. No wonder the show seemed extravagant; Muse was rumored to have international backing and a strong financial foundation.

Mia realized Mary had caught on and leaned in further to explain, "The crew announced earlier that tonight’s dinner includes both the producer and the investors. Isn’t it necessary to look good and leave a solid impression?"

"The producers and investors are attending?" Mary asked in surprise.

"Exactly—something I only just learned," Mia replied, adding with a mischievous grin, "Word is the major investor is incredibly handsome—rivaling top-tier idols."

Watching Mia’s exaggerated excitement, Mary Scott merely chuckled. "So what if he’s handsome? Does that mean we’ll get paid more?"

"Oh, fair enough. Besides, you’re a married woman now." Mia sighed with mock regret.

Mary couldn’t help laughing at Mia’s antics. She casually grabbed a thicker coat and shrugged, "Off we go."

Mia stood there, dumbfounded. This woman—her artist—was becoming increasingly laissez-faire post-marriage. Did tying the knot really mean no longer caring about appearances?

Mary couldn’t care less for Mia’s silent disdain. The chill in the northwest wind was sharper than what she’d felt back in Swallow City. She wouldn’t risk catching a cold just for the sake of dressing pretty.

When they arrived at the hotel restaurant, Simon Baker, James Jerome, and a few others had already found seats. Seeing Mary Scott arrive, Simon Baker waved for her to join them.

Mary had little interest in schmoozing with producers and investors, so she walked over at a leisurely pace. It was at this moment, while passing by a staff member who shifted aside, that two seated figures at the head of the table came into view. Mary froze in place, stunned.

Simon Baker noticed she had stopped mid-stride and waved. "Miss Scott, why are you standing frozen? Hurry over."

Mia also sensed Mary’s strange behavior and quietly asked, "Mary, are you okay?"

Mary quickly snapped out of it, realizing all eyes were on her. Awkwardly, she chuckled, "It’s nothing, Simon. Who are these gentlemen at the table...?"

"Oh, let me introduce you," Simon Baker said, motioning toward the guests of honor. "This is Mr. Victor Johnson, our show’s producer, and this is Mr. Lambert Norman, the show’s investor."

Simon then proudly presented Mary to the pair. "Gentlemen, you’re undoubtedly familiar with Mary Scott, our program’s mascot and leading star."

Mary managed a polite smile, "Mr. Johnson, Mr. Norman."

She never anticipated encountering these two men here—behind "Detectives and Wilderness," no less. Suddenly, the lucrative appearance fee she’d received made much more sense. She’d foolishly believed her recent popularity was the sole reason.

Lambert Norman gazed at Mary Scott silently. The years since they last crossed paths in M Kingdom had only enhanced her radiance. She carried herself with a reserved poise that was absent in her younger days.

Everyone at the table subtly picked up on Lambert Norman’s lingering stare, leading to whispers among themselves. Clearly, the investor had more than a passing acquaintance with Mary Scott.

Simon Baker had already been clued in about Victor Johnson and Lambert Norman’s connection to Mary, but seeing their reaction today confirmed their relationship went deeper than he’d assumed. Caught in the awkward tension, he positioned himself to smooth things over diplomatically. "Miss Scott, the meal is about to start—please, take a seat."

His words seemed to reinvigorate the gathered crowd. James Jerome began sprinkling light-hearted jokes to break the ice.

Adam Piers, languid in his seat, casually scanned Mary before diverting his attention to Lambert Norman across the table. He then opened a group chat on his phone, tagging David Locke: "Do you know this guy—last name Norman?"

He didn’t expect an instant response from David Locke, but within seconds, a reply surprised him. "Lambert Norman?"

Adam Piers raised a curious brow. "You know him?"

"Where did you meet him? He’s with Mary now?" David Locke questioned urgently in his reply.

Adam smirked knowingly. Locke’s frenzied inquiries confirmed his suspicions. "Oh, yeah. They’re together. What’s the deal—an old fling of Mary’s?"

The message blatantly provoked drama, fueled by sheer mischief.

David Locke stared fixedly at Adam’s response: They’re together. Together....

He clenched his fists and shot up from his chair, aggravated. The sudden movement jarred his recovering leg, reminding him of the immobilizing plaster cast wrapped tightly around it. Still, he couldn’t sit still; ignoring Adam, he dialed his assistant Martin, "Book me the next flight to West Mountain—ASAP."

Martin hesitated. Knowing the true extent of his employer’s injuries (though not quite the "shattered femur" exaggeration Locke had told Mary), the thought of trekking to a cold and remote mountain range seemed mindless. As a responsible assistant, he voiced concern, "Director Locke, your body isn’t fit to travel right now."

"Stop blabbering," David interrupted gruffly.

Martin sighed helplessly, agreeing at last, "I’ll book it right away."

As if out of routine, Martin mentally prepared himself for another arduous upheaval in service to his boss. On the Third Day of the Lunar New Year, no less.

...

Back at the hotel restaurant.

With James Jerome’s comedic finesse and Stella Murray’s down-to-earth charm, paired with Simon Baker’s persistent efforts to keep conversations smooth, the meal managed to avoid outright awkwardness.

Afterward, Brian Joule excused himself early, requesting time to review his script. Following his lead, others tiptoed out one by one.

When Mary Scott got up to leave, Victor Johnson suddenly addressed her, "Miss, Mr. Norman and I have a few things to discuss with you."

With the other guests dispersed, Victor Johnson casually referred to her with "Miss," dropping hints of familiarity.

Simon Baker, taken aback by this development, reeled internally. The affluent producer, Victor Johnson—a person near the top of his industry’s food chain—was referring to Mary Scott with an oddly formal, almost reverent tone. It clicked: She wasn’t just an acquaintance; the connection ran deeper than expected.

Once the director deduced that Mary, Lambert Norman, and Victor already knew each other, his mind buzzed with curiosity. But seeing their lack of intent to reveal details made him grimace, forcing him into a quick escape strategy. Fearing fallout, he cast a longing glance at Mary Scott.

Mary caught his look and nodded understandingly, "Director Baker, don’t worry; I know Mr. Johnson and Mr. Norman from past encounters."

The confirmation melted Simon’s nerves slightly. Breathing easier, he got up, "In that case, I’ll leave you all to catch up."

Simon exited swiftly but hadn’t made it far before being grabbed by Adam Piers. Adam clutched Simon’s neck like it owed him, squeezing hard enough to leave Simon choking. "Piers! What is this for?" Simon wheezed through his trapped airway in dismay.

Adam threw a pointed glance into the dining room. "So...what’s going on?"

Simon wasn’t willing to declare his ignorance. Recovering control of his neck, under pressure, he muttered faintly, "They’re Mary Scott’s old acquaintances."

Adam smirked darkly, seemingly enjoying Simon’s misery while validating suspicions. These were going to be "fun" times ahead.