Chapter 10 Dining Companion?
Lauren had just returned to her room when Quentin's expression grew increasingly somber. He found, to his surprise, that he had enjoyed the meal she prepared for him more than he expected. Quentin had a light palate, and it was rare for someone to match his tastes so closely. Lauren seemingly shared his culinary preferences, which brought him an unexpected delight.
Yet, in the next moment, Quentin dismissed any favorable thoughts about Lauren. He convinced himself that she was just a scheming woman, probably doing all this to catch his eye. She was putting on an act, just playing a part.
That was what Quentin thought, even though he didn't fully believe it deep down. He knew he was lying to himself.
Feeling irritated and restless, Quentin scrapped his plan to relax for the day, grabbed his car keys, and left the villa.
Lauren figured that after this, Quentin might not come back at all, or at least not for a few months. But her assumption was shattered the very next day.
Around noon, Quentin returned to the villa as if on cue, just when Lauren had finished preparing her own soup.
He raised an eyebrow at the soup on the table, took off his coat, washed his hands without a word, and sat down to eat. He acted as if it was a matter of course, which left Lauren feeling rather helpless.
What could she say, really? She was his wife in name, and it was her duty to cook for him.
Lauren kept her questions to herself, steadfastly not starting a conversation. Quentin was the same, silent from start to finish. After the meal, he left for work like any other household sweetheart, without anything seeming out of place.
For the next few days, Quentin came home on time, as if he had learned Lauren's lunch schedule, always arriving just in time for her soup.
Lauren kept a calm exterior, but inside she was a whirlpool of emotions. Once could be a coincidence, but twice, three times, and even more—could it mean he cared about her, even just a little?
That evening, as Lauren soaked in the bathtub, she reminisced about the meals she shared with Quentin. What exactly were they to each other now? Was it simply a matter of sharing meals, just being lunch partners?
After who knows how long in the bath, Lauren stepped out feeling hungry again. She headed downstairs to the kitchen for a snack and overheard the servants talking at the bottom of the staircase.
"Have you noticed? Madam and Quentin don't seem at all like the mismatched couple everyone talks about. I think they're quite affectionate," one servant remarked.
"Indeed, Madam is gentle and beautiful, and she has a wonderful personality. It'd be strange if Quentin didn't like her. Besides, since we've been here, Quentin has been having lunch with Madam almost every day. If you ask me, they're in the honeymoon phase, very much in love."
Lauren was struck by the irony of another servant's comment about a ‘honeymoon phase.’ Honeymoon phase? Who could call it that when she and Quentin hardly exchanged a word in days, let alone shared a glance? His daily return must have been just a coincidence for a quick dinner...
Unaware that Lauren was within earshot, the servants continued their gossip.
"Yeah, the rumors out there are crazy, saying Quentin's living it up, but they don't know the real deal between Quentin and Madame..."
Lauren had to stifle a laugh. Feelings? Did Quentin have any feelings for her? If it weren't for the fact that she saved Hannah, she might have been kicked out of the Robinson Family a long time ago.
Finally, the servants noticed Lauren standing behind them and hung their heads in embarrassment, like children caught misbehaving.
Indeed, in prestigious households, it wasn't permissible for servants to discuss their masters' private affairs. It seemed like some misfortunate fate for Lauren that she always encountered such nosy servants, eager to bring her every move into the spotlight.
Lauren, however, wasn't interested in pursuing the matter. Pretending not to have heard their conversation, she walked straight to the fridge, took out a bottle of milk, and warmed it up smoothly before turning around to leave with the warm bottle in hand.
Lying in bed, Lauren found sleep elusive as she reflected on the servants' words. Did people really see her and Quentin as a loving couple? She wished that were true.
Despite being only a month pregnant, with the baby merely an embryo at this stage, Lauren felt its presence. She caressed her belly and a content smile spread across her face.
"Baby, thank you for coming into my world and bringing new colors to my life. Whether or not you have a father, I will always love you the most..."
She whispered, pondering her future life and feeling guilty toward her unborn child. But there was nothing she could do; she had never imagined Quentin could be heartless enough to want to kill his own flesh and blood.
Such cruelty must be directed at her because he didn't want her to be the mother of his child! The thought soured Lauren's heart. But before tears could fall, she tilted her head back, forcing them back.
She had to be strong, she had no choice but to be strong!
Lauren cleared the clutter from her mind, hugged her pillow, took deep breaths, and eventually drifted off to sleep.
Yet, there was another restless soul in bed that night—Quentin.
Lauren's image consumed Quentin's thoughts, haunting him like an obsession. He detested that woman with every fiber of his being, so why couldn't he stop thinking about her?
Quentin found himself wide awake, and rather than letting his mind wander aimlessly, he decided to dive into work. He pulled out his laptop and began handling some business for the company. Before he knew it, dawn had broken. Quentin quickly freshened up and went straight to the office.
By noon, Quentin was debating whether to return to his villa for lunch when an unannounced visitor arrived at his office.
"Well, well, what a rare occurrence. I've been coming to your office for several days only to find you out, and just my luck, I caught you today."
Hearing the voice before seeing the person, Quentin didn't need to guess; he knew it was his good buddy, Noah Martin, aka the biggest pain in his neck.
Noah barged into Quentin's office, headed straight in, and plopped down on the couch, crossing his legs in a manner that suggested he wasn't leaving anytime soon.
Quentin couldn't muster a welcoming expression; he understood Noah all too well. Whenever Noah sought him out, it was never for anything good.
"Spill it, what have you been up to lately? Why the no-show at lunch every day?"
Noah began to pry like an old gossipmonger. Since school days, he and Quentin were almost inseparable, and there were hardly any secrets between them. Their bond as best friends had lasted for over a decade, so it was a surprise to Noah when Quentin began to ‘disappear’ for days at a time.
Quentin responded coolly, "It's nothing. Am I only allowed to eat with you? To be honest, I've had my fair share of your face."
That comment hit a nerve with Noah, "Hey, hey! What's with that talk? What do you mean by 'your face'? Have you ever seen a face as handsome as mine?"
Noah was quick to defend his ego, confident in his looks.
