Chapter 217 What to Cry for
Oliver looked back at Natalie before he got into the car. After she got into the car and settled down, he suddenly said, “No one cooked for me over the past month. I almost starved to death.”
“You didn’t starve before you met me,” Natalie retorted under her breath. However, since he came to pick her up, she did not scold him. Instead, she said cheerfully, "Then, let’s go grocery shopping! I’ll cook whatever you want to eat!”
"You want me to go grocery shopping?” He frowned again.
“Yes, but I’ll do the shopping, okay?” Natalie said as she thought to herself, ‘We can’t have you ruining your image as a domineering chairman after all!’
At Rosewood Estate, ingredients were always available and fresh. Nonetheless, they might not always have what Oliver liked. Even with the food Natalie cooked, he would not touch the things he did not like. As such, it was better for her to go grocery shopping and buy the things that he liked.
However, Natalie did not enjoy shopping by herself. It was both monotonous and exhausting. The idea of taking Oliver along appealed to her. She found herself imagining how the domineering Mr. Windsor, who was always clad in expensive suits, would look like grocery shopping. Alas, she could not envision the scene clearly. Nonetheless, it brought a smile to her face.
Meanwhile, when Jamie heard Natalie’s suggestion, he was dumbfounded. “You want him to go grocery shopping?”
If professional decorum as a bodyguard did not prevent him from displaying extreme reactions, he would have appeared astonished. Having served Oliver for nearly ten years, he had never seen Oliver handling raw ingredients. And now, she proposed for Oliver to accompany her to the supermarket?
The thought of Oliver, who always maintained a dignified appearance, being dragged to a supermarket was beyond Jamie's wildest imagination!
…
Jamie and a few incognito bodyguards mingled with the crowd, closely guarding Oliver.
Natalie, pushing a shopping cart ahead, noticed Oliver lagging behind and waited for him before walking together.
Oliver, known for his long strides and brisk pace, now seemed reluctant to move at all.
The supermarket, located in the city center, was teeming with people.
From Oliver’s expression, one could discern his utter disdain.
"Look over there, that handsome man!"
"Where? Oh, I see him! Wow, he must be at least 7 feet tall!"
"I admire his fashion sense. So elegant and understated!"
Natalie spotted the snack section nearby where several young women were covertly admiring Oliver, their gazes fixed on him. Their voices were loud enough for her to overhear, which meant that Oliver could hear them too. However, his face remained impassive, and his demeanor was cold and disdainful. It was as if he was oblivious to his admirers.
It was not just those girls, but many others were also captivated by Oliver.
The man invariably drew attention wherever he went.
"Oliver, wait for me!" Natalie hurried to another aisle.
"Natalie!" Oliver expressed his displeasure with a frown, wishing to call her back.
Initially, he intended to follow her, but several middle-aged women walked past with fish and frozen food. He promptly stepped back, avoiding them. The fish in their bags wriggled, splashing a few drops of water onto Oliver's clothing.
Upon her return, Natalie observed Oliver's furrowed brows, displaying an annoyance and disgust he could not hide. He stood immobilized, motionless until he saw her. His gaze turned frosty, and anger flickered in his eyes.
“What’s the matter?" Natalie inquired, puzzled.
"He was splashed by water from the fish," Jamie informed Natalie quietly.
Only then did Natalie notice the dark spots on Oliver's coat.
Oliver shared a common trait with many affluent young men: an obsession with cleanliness.
Natalie bit her lip to suppress her laughter. She had not anticipated that in her brief absence, Oliver would be ‘tormented’ by a fish.
The supermarket's air conditioning was running, so Natalie approached Oliver with a good attitude to help him remove his coat. She gently persuaded him, "Don’t be upset. It’s warm here anyway. If it’s dirty, then just don’t wear it.”
There were additional clothes for Oliver in the car. Should Oliver feel cold, Jamie had plans to send someone to retrieve those spare garments.
Jamie had refrained from taking any action earlier primarily because Oliver was in a foul mood.
How could Oliver not be in a foul mood? The distinguished Mr. Windsor, the founder of RK Group, found himself reluctantly participating in grocery shopping, only to be splashed by a fish!
"Where did you go just now?" Oliver in just his shirt and his inherent demeanor radiated a noble and reserved charm, starkly contrasting with the bustling atmosphere of the supermarket.
Natalie suppressed a laugh, aware that his current mood was far from jovial, hence she refrained from doing so.
"I went to buy a hat for you!"
Natalie stood on her tiptoes and positioned the hat she had just gotten on Oliver's head. The brim hid a part of his striking face, yet his allure remained undeniable.
"There you go!"
Oliver touched the hat atop his head, recognizing the material was not of high quality. He regarded it with disdain, yet he chose not to remove it. He said, "Hurry up and pay for things."
Despite the fashion industry not being as constantly in the limelight as the entertainment industry, the fanbase of renowned supermodels was nonetheless impressive.
Natalie wished to shop leisurely, free from concerns.
"What do you want to eat?" Natalie asked as they arrived at the section with fresh produce.
Oliver, with his acute sense of smell, noticed a slight scent of the fresh items despite the supermarket's cleanliness. He wanted to refuse, but, moved by Natalie's sincerity, he said, "You."
Upon grasping his meaning, Natalie's cheeks were tinted with a blush, and she refrained from further questioning. Instead, she selected a few ingredients he typically enjoyed.
"Why don’t you wait over there?"
Noticing his distaste for the fresh produce area, Natalie suggested he move to the dairy section, which was less crowded and cleaner.
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