Chapter 655 Miss Watson or Mrs. Windsor?
"It's not a problem," Jennifer replied, though she was dying to know if it was Miss Watson or Mrs. Windsor. But she dared not ask.
Her mind was still spinning when she returned to the executive floors.
"Mr. Windsor, Miss Watson brought you lunch," Jennifer announced as she entered his office. Oliver was seated in the reception area; a tea rose to rest on several elegant wooden boxes, with a few beautifully presented dishes already laid out.
Glancing down at the Hello Kitty insulated lunch box in her hand, the kind often found on discount at the supermarket, Jennifer fell silent.
Would Mr. Windsor send her and the meal packing?
"Who's it from?" Oliver, who had been on his phone, looked up, his gaze settling on the lunch box. "Bring it here."
Jennifer barely managed to whisper "Miss Watson" as she walked over, her heart in her throat.
Oliver had little interest in the spread of food on the table, but the mere sight of the lunchbox Natalie brought over sparked a sudden hunger without seeing what was inside.
It seemed only she could stir his appetite, both physically and emotionally.
The insulated lunchbox was compact, and once you factored in the insulation, the interior space shrank even further. Four tiers stacked neatly, with a small compartment for soup at the bottom—three dishes and a soup, just enough to satisfy a grown man like Oliver.
The offerings at Maple Villa couldn't hold a candle to those at Rosewood Estate, and Natalie had managed to find just this one thermal container at home.
Jennifer didn't dare look closely at what dishes were inside, but even a quick glance told her there was no fancy plating—just plain home cooking. Could Natalie seriously think such simple fare would impress Mr. Windsor with her attentiveness?
When Jennifer was convinced that Miss Watson was doomed, she witnessed the often stoic Mr. Windsor's eyes soften like melting ice, his usually stern lips curving into an unmistakable smile.
"Where is she?" Oliver asked.
"She's left." Seeing a flicker of disappointment on Oliver's face, Jennifer quickly added, "But she hasn't been gone long."
Only then did Oliver nod, dismiss Jennifer, and dial Natalie's number.
"Where are you?" came his voice through Natalie's Bluetooth earpiece as soon as she answered.
"I took off," Natalie responded, stopping at a red light, "Did you get the lunch I sent?"
She sounded upbeat.
Catching the whiff of the spicy scent rising from the steaming dishes in front of him, Oliver's mouth started to water, the food smelling delicious.
"No," he lied.
"No?" she pulled the car over, puzzled. "But I called your assistant, and one of your secretaries came down to pick it up. Wait, how did you know I was there if you didn't get the lunch?"
He paused for half a second, quickly crafting a perfect excuse, "My car has a tracker."
Oliver had given Natalie a car from the Rosewood Estate fleet because she didn't own one.
"Really? You put GPS on the car?" she was hesitant, unable to pinpoint what was off in his response, but feeling something was amiss.
"Mrs. Windsor, even though I'm not short of money, a car still costs a pretty penny—a few hundred thousand dollars at least," he teased.
The car Natalie was driving today was the base model, retailing at over seven hundred thousand, but with the top-of-the-line features, it would cost over a million. When it came to cars, Oliver always went for the top tier, with no exceptions.
Natalie, swayed by his conviction yet filled with doubt, queried once more, "Are you sure you didn't get the lunch delivery? Maybe you could wait a bit longer? I handed it over to your secretary, I swear."
"No," Oliver replied, "I didn't have lunch yet, so come join me. It's food from Heaven Restaurant."
Natalie thought to herself that joining him wouldn't magically turn it into her cooking. But feeling a bit guilty for the missed lunch he had been looking forward to, she hesitated before saying, "Alright then."
Jennifer emerged from the CEO's office in a daze, that smile from Mr. Windsor still etched in her mind, sending a shiver down her spine.
"What's wrong?" a colleague from the secretarial office asked.
"Mr. Windsor smiled," Jennifer said.
The colleagues were stunned.
"Why would that be? Did he sign another big deal?" one secretary inquired.
"Remember the last acquisition that was completed below market price? It was hailed as a model achievement in the industry. Did you ever see Mr. Windsor smile then?" another secretary remarked.
Jennifer unveiled the mystery: "Miss Watson delivered lunch to Mr. Windsor."
"Wow!"
"Are they back together?"
"I heard they were rather cool towards each other at a party a few days ago. Wasn't that the case?"
"And didn't Mr. Windsor buy Natalie that expensive gown?"
The office was buzzing with speculation.
Only the secretary responsible for Oliver's PR remained quiet, privately thinking, "It's not Miss Watson, it's Mrs. Windsor. It wasn't indifference; perhaps it was a new spark between them."
As the elevator arrived and the doors opened, a group prepared to step inside but froze upon seeing someone already there.
"Miss Watson."
Natalie had thought there wouldn't be anyone around during lunchtime, only to run into a cluster of secretaries, who, more shocked and flustered than she, almost reflexively stepped aside to clear a path for her.
Natalie remained silent.
"Is Mr. Windsor inside?" she asked, catching a glimpse of Jennifer, who had fetched the meal earlier. Turning to her, she continued, "Did you manage to deliver the lunchbox to Oliver?"
Jennifer nodded dutifully, keenly aware that she wouldn't dare make decisions about Mr. Windsor's lunch on her own. She made sure to deliver it to him with prompt obedience.
Natalie squinted her eyes, thanked the secretary, and strode toward the president's office.
"The vibe seems off; Natalie looks like she's heading to stir up trouble with Mr. Windsor," one secretary questioned. "Is it okay for her to just barge in like that? Should we intervene and give Mr. Windsor a heads-up?"
The secretary responsible for Oliver's public relations had a moment of conscience and shared with the others in the dark, "Let's go. Given Miss Watson's character, do you think she'd go in if something wasn't happening or if she didn't have Mr. Windsor's consent?"
Jennifer suddenly remembered, "Right, Jamie asked me to pick up the lunch. Normally, he would do it himself, but he went out of his way to ask me. Could it have been intentional?"
The others thought about it. That made sense!
Jennifer was the biggest gossip in their secretarial pool. Spill a drink or two, and she'd divulge all the office tales to her coworkers, answering any question that came her way.
Jamie's choice of Jennifer, specifically over anyone else, spoke volumes.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
