As soon as he finished, Lionel and Mindy hurried out the door. Miranda was left stunned.

Oh well, as long as they were happy…

Back at the lab, Paul was reviewing the two data sets from last week and noticed a discrepancy in the fourth column of the second set. Just as he was about to call Bryan over, his phone rang.

He answered it casually, “Hello?”

“Dr. Jefferson, it’s Miranda.”

Paul paused for a moment. His gaze slowly drifted from the screen, and his tone softened without him realizing it. “What’s up? Something you need?”

“My dad mentioned wanting to invite you over for dinner. He’s going to cook… If you’re too busy, that’s fine. I’ll just tell him—”

“I’m free.”

Miranda paused for a few seconds. “…Aren’t you busy with the lab?”

“It’s manageable.”

“Well then…”

“I’ll see you tonight. And thank your dad for me, I appreciate him cooking.”

“N–No problem.” After hanging up, Miranda was left in a daze. Something felt off…

Just yesterday, Sandy had texted her, complaining about how the team was swamped. Everyone was working overtime to meet deadlines. So how could Paul say it was “manageable?”

Meanwhile, Silas noticed Paul had finished his call and nudged him playfully. “Who was that? Miranda, right? I heard her voice.”

Paul shot him a cool glance. “You knew and still asked?”

Silas chuckled. “I’ve pulled three all-nighters. Sandy and Bryan are exhausted too, and here you are, Dr. Jefferson, casually saying it’s ‘manageable.’ A man with a date is definitely in a different league.”

In reality, Paul had worked harder than anyone. But somehow, when it came from his mouth, it sounded so effortless and upbeat.

Was everyone else doing fake experiments, writing fake reports, and working on fake theses?

Paul shifted aside, putting some distance between them, and pointed at his watch. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s been over nine hours since I gave you the first draft of the experimental data yesterday. How much have you verified? Are the accuracy rates up to standard? Have the deviations been corrected? When do you plan to submit the report?”

It was a barrage of four deadly questions.

Silas grimaced. “Uh… sorry for disturbing you. I’ll take my leave.”

He sulked back to his workstation, staring at the unprocessed data on his computer. Moments like these made him really miss Miranda.

If she were still around, she’d whip up a quick program. The chaotic data would magically fall into place and be neatly organized in no time.

Alas, it was easy to get used to luxury but hard to return to simplicity! If only little Miranda could stay in their lab permanently.

At 6:00 pm, Paul arrived at Miranda’s home with a bottle of red wine.

Hearing the door, Lionel rushed out of the kitchen, holding a spatula and grinning from ear to ear. “Paul’s here?”

“Good evening, Mr. Sutton. Sorry to trouble you.”

“Oh, not at all, not at all! Come on in…”

Mindy moved to grab some indoor slippers for Paul, but he politely declined. “No need, I can get them myself.”

She watched as he skillfully retrieved a pair of slippers from the shoe cabinet and slipped them on. Then, he handed over the bottle of red wine.

Mindy smiled, “You didn’t need to bring anything!”

“It’s nothing. This wine was a gift from a friend. Just thought I’d share it.”

Mindy accepted the bottle with a smile, glancing at the label and the year. She raised her eyebrows slightly in surprise. Then, her gaze lingered on Paul’s feet in the slippers, her eyes deepening with a thoughtful look.