Chapter 585 Natalie is still Mrs. Windsor
The bodyguard, who wasn't Assistant or Charles, was clueless about what the boss meant and responded candidly, "Yes, I'm aware."
Oliver nodded, satisfied, "Then do you know about our fan page?"
The bodyguard was internally shocked. The boss knew about fan pages?!
Luckily, the bodyguard's poker face was impeccable, keeping his inner turmoil hidden while replying calmly, "Yes, sir."
"What's your opinion on it?" Oliver asked, appearing genuinely curious.
Internally, the bodyguard thought: 'The internet is a great disguise; otherwise, there wouldn't be so many daring to obsess over their imagined pairing.'
He pondered briefly, his survival instincts nudging him toward a cautious response, "I think they have good taste."
"I think so too," Oliver nodded, looking pleased.
The bodyguard was dumbfounded.
Wake up, sir! Anyone good-looking could be paired up.
You're not their only option!
"How do I join this fan group?" Oliver showed his phone to the bodyguard. It displayed a request to join a Telegram group, which had been rejected.
"Uh, you see, sir, such groups usually require contributions from the members and a vetting process."
"Contributions?"
This was a blind spot in Mr. Windsor's knowledge.
The bodyguard thought to himself, thankful for a colleague who was an obsessed fan; otherwise, he'd be silently enduring the boss's stern glare."
"Can't we just pay to make it happen?" Oliver asked, puzzled.
"Of course, we can," the bodyguard answered.
Oliver gave the bodyguard a look, "Then why waste time with all that explanation?"
He returned his gaze to his phone, pondering—whom to transfer funds to, and where?
"Here, get me in this group," Oliver said, tossing the phone to the bodyguard.
Catching the phone with trembling hands, the bodyguard dared not pry or press anything on his boss's device. Phones are personal, and he didn't want to risk seeing a confidential message.
"Hurry up!" Oliver urged impatiently.
"Yes, yes!" The bodyguard, in his anxious haste, accidentally hit the home button, and there it was—the photo of the lady of the house at the forefront. He quickly navigated back to Telegram, opened his own Instagram on his phone, and after some careful maneuvers, got in touch with a fan club admin.
"Sir, how much should we send?"
"A million?" Oliver paused, "Is that too little?"
The bodyguard choked up for a second before replying, "Sir, I think a hundred thousand is already quite generous. Any more and people might suspect a scam or something underhanded."
Oliver waved a hand dismissively. One hundred thousand it was, though it seemed paltry to him.
Soon, Oliver, or rather the "generous fan," passed the fan group's verification. To be cautious, the bodyguard split the hundred thousand into two transactions—ten thousand as a deposit, and the remainder sent after joining the group.
"Sir, it's done," the bodyguard handed back the phone but couldn't help wondering, "Sir, if I may, why do you want to join this group?"
With a stern look from Oliver, the bodyguard realized he'd spoken out of turn and quickly shut his mouth.
Still, everyone in this group was there to ship a couple. But for Oliver, as one of the subjects of their adoration, to join... was he going to ship himself?
Oliver glanced at the group's name: “Natalie and Oliver's Headquarters”.
"Sir, your wife is waking up," the bodyguard said, ever-vigilant of his surroundings and first to notice Natalie stirring.
As the SUV's door opened, Oliver looked over. Natalie was waking up—groggy, bleary-eyed, and disoriented, seemingly unaware of where she was.
Scanning the area, one could see Oliver some yards away, a cigarette casually pinched between his fingers, its ember glowing intermittently. His right hand was occupied with his phone, undoubtedly dealing with some work matter.
"Ma'am, we're at the rest area and will be leaving in about ten minutes. Would you like to step out for a bit?" the bodyguard, taking in some fresh air outside the car, asked.
"I'm not... I'm already divorced from Oliver. You can call me Miss Watson, or just Natalie," Natalie replied, a hint of resignation in her voice.
The bodyguard blinked, seemingly confused, exchanging a glance with his colleague. After a few seconds, he nodded and said, "Yes, ma'am."
Here, it seemed only she believed the divorce from her husband was final.
But Natalie knew the guards were just toeing the line with their boss who happened to be her ex, so playing along with his wishes was always a safe bet.
Sighing at the guards’ obstinate manner, Natalie knew there was little she could do about it.
As Oliver approached the car, Natalie emerged, stretching languidly.
"You’re awake."
Nodding, she said, "I’m heading to the restroom."
She took a few steps and then noticed Oliver following her.
"What's the matter?" she asked, puzzled. "You need to use the restroom too?"
"I'm accompanying you."
"...There's no need for that, Mr. Windsor. I'll be entering the ladies' room, you know."
Natalie felt a peculiar twist in her gut, especially since Oliver's personal security still stubbornly addressed her with the formal “ma'am” instead of her name. She couldn't help but feel a silent guilt for subtly taking advantage of Oliver.
"Leonard's around here too; we're still in his area," Oliver rationalized.
Now, Natalie didn't dare refuse Oliver's company. She minded Leonard's tactics well and knew Susan despised her. She was afraid of falling into another trap or becoming another tether to weaken Oliver.
Arriving at the entrance of the ladies' room, she turned to find Oliver still behind her.
"Are you... going to stand here?" she asked.
"It's safer," Oliver replied.
With a loss for words and an internal sigh of resignation, Natalie tried to comfort herself with the fact that it wasn't peak season and the rest stop was quite empty, hoping he wouldn’t come across anyone.
"Excuse me, handsome, this is the ladies' room. The men's is over there," a middle-aged woman said as she was about to enter the restroom, giving Oliver a strange glance after confirming that she was indeed at the right door.
"I'm waiting for someone," Oliver explained.
The woman had an "aha" moment and teased with a playful smile, "Waiting for your girlfriend? Oh, young love these days is just so sweet!"
Oliver's lips twitched into a slight smile as he corrected her, "Actually, my wife."
Natalie stepped out of the stall just in time to be greeted by a woman in her forties or fifties who burst into laughter seeing her, "Young lady, is that your husband waiting outside for you?"
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