Chapter 574 Beer, Anyone?
"What's this?" Lillian inquired, seeing the dense text on Mia's screen.
"I'm writing a novel based on Mr. Windsor and Miss Watson," Mia confessed with a grin. "It's got a huge following. Lots of secret fans rooting for them to be together... But Mr. Windsor must never find out, or I might as well say goodbye to my peace and quiet."
Lillian, missing the gravity of the last statement, buzzed with excitement instead. "What novel? I wanna read it!"
Mia gave her the reading app and the title of the book.
When Lillian checked, she exclaimed, "It's on the charts! What's this monthly ranking? You're third right now, that's amazing."
Hearing this, Mia became animated. "I should be second, but the book above mine? They've boosted their votes."
"That's possible?" Lillian was astounded. "Doesn't anyone monitor that?"
“You can't really regulate it. As long as the IP address is different, they can claim it's a friendly donation or a gift from a friend, and there's no way to prove otherwise. This kind of thing is pretty normal in the industry, you know?”
Lillian expressed her disapproval. She had interacted with many people, but she had never encountered such audacity.
"Noah, I think there's something off with this material," Lillian said after quickly scanning the first few chapters.
"What's the problem?"
"There's not even a single kiss? No love scenes? That's not a typical married life!"
Lucas, who didn't trust Lillian to be discreet, had come over to find someone. He overheard that particular comment and nearly choked on his drink, managing to swallow it down with a series of coughs.
Mia was dumbfounded. She thought her own fantasies about Oliver and Natalie were pretty out there, but here was someone fantasizing about other people's marital life!
"Lucas, were you looking for me? Did you choke?" Lillian asked Lucas with concern, "You need to be more careful."
Lucas was at a loss for words.
To avoid further embarrassment, Lucas figured he should beat a hasty retreat.
Still, he couldn't resist advising Lillian before he left, "Watch what you say."
Lillian nodded earnestly. She hadn't said anything irresponsible.
"What's the relationship like between Mr. Windsor and Miss Watson when they're alone?" Mia asked expectedly.
Lillian honestly admitted, "Actually, I've never witnessed it. My cousin hates it when I interrupt his alone time with Natalie. Plus, my cousin is quite energetic and has a lot of stamina. I've read online that men with hairy legs are strong, and my cousin certainly has hairy legs!"
"Wow—"
"That's how you should write it! Kiss! Kiss fiercely! Make it so she can't leave the bed for three days and three nights... Oh, but that's unfair to Natalie. Perhaps it's better to leave my cousin yearning, tantalized by what he can't have. "
The two young women lost themselves in their giggling.
Unaware that she had become the center of gossip and fantasy, Natalie was just finishing up preparing dinner for Oliver.
Tonight's menu was barbecue, courtesy of a local well-known BBQ joint. Natalie had prepared a succulent roast lamb leg for Oliver.
Natalie's roasted leg of lamb was a departure from the local custom and unlike anything whipped up by the culinary wizards at restaurants around town. She had seasoned it uniquely to cater to Oliver's taste.
As the meat slowly reached perfect doneness, its rich aroma mingled with the spicy scent of the seasonings, making mouths water among the passersby.
A few well-heeled guys lingering nearby craned their necks to catch a glimpse of Natalie's handiwork. Her skilled hands turned the meat until it was perfectly golden-brown, never charred. They remembered the tantalizing smells wafting from her kitchen the evening before.
"Mr. Windsor's got it good, enjoying some first-rate private cooking," one of the guys remarked with a hint of envy.
Oliver sat beside Natalie, watching her work the grill. Hearing the comment, he just lifted his eyelids slightly and coolly acknowledged it without further engagement.
Barrett edged closer too. The fellow who admired Natalie's cooking shared a good rapport with Barrett and kept signaling him to score some of the coveted meat from Oliver's plate.
Reason told Barrett not to push his luck, but the forbidden fruit always tasted the sweetest, especially since last night's meal made by Natalie still lingered on his mind with a sense of longing.
"Bro, that's a hefty leg of lamb you got there... You can't possibly finish it all by yourself, right?"
Aren't you gonna need someone to help you out?
Oliver gave him a chilled look, and in the flickering light, his said, “Even if I can’t finish, you're not getting any.” His gaze then grew colder.
Barrett rubbed his nose and sheepishly retreated with his buddy. Once they were far enough, he whispered, "We'll have to catch Natalie when she's alone, behind Oliver’s back. Natalie's nice, she might share."
"That Natalie? The one who put you in your place?" chuckled his friend. "And yet you say she's nice."
Barrett waved off the past, eager not to reminisce, but he couldn't help craving the delectable food in the here and now.
"Never saw Mr. Windsor as the possessive type over food," his friend commented again.
"You obviously haven't seen who's cooking for him. He'd tell someone to buzz off even if they offered him ten million for a bowl of Natalie's soup."
The guy knew Oliver only through rumors and couldn't fathom such devotion.
"Do you really think Mr. Windsor is the type to be used by others? Taking personal care and even spoon-feeding?" Barrett challenged him.
"You mean Mr. Windsor?" his friend shook his head, "I don’t think so."
"I've seen it firsthand, and the object of his care is Natalie."
Who would have thought that even someone as high-and-mighty as Oliver would one day bow his proud head, all for a woman's smile.
"It's done!"
Natalie poked the center of the lamb leg with a carving knife to ensure it was thoroughly cooked, then reduced the charcoal beneath to a thin layer to keep the meat warm.
As Natalie was about to slice off pieces of the lamb leg for convenience, Oliver took hold of the knife handle.
"Let me."
"Can you?"
Natalie raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
Without a word, Oliver curled his finger, signaling for Natalie to hand over the carving knife.
Natalie made a gesture inviting him to proceed—'be my guest.'
Natalie thought to herself, not to belittle you, but if he can't tell pork from beef, how can he carve meat?
Natalie waited to see him embarrass himself, then turned to the attendant with a beckoning motion, "Grab me a beer."
After finishing her request, she turned to Oliver, "Mr. Windsor, beer for you?"
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