You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 208

Oliver didn’t even look up. “Give it away.”

Lincoln couldn’t help but grumble inwardly. Would it kill him to give clear instructions for once? Every single thing had to be dragged out of him. No wonder people say working for someone powerful is like walking a tightrope.

He mulled it over and finally asked, careful as ever, “Who should I give it to?”

“Anyone.” Oliver’s tone was as flat as always. “Whoever you think is suitable.”

Lincoln was at a loss for words.

Just then, Oliver glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows and spotted Marian walking through the dining room. He called out, “Marian.”

She stopped and greeted him, “Yes, sir?”

“What time is it?” Oliver asked.

Marian glanced at his watch, baffled. He was literally wearing one. Why was he asking her?

“It’s six forty-five, sir,” she answered.

Johns, who was standing nearby, broke out in a cold sweat. He tugged Marian aside, whispering, “Are you clueless? He wants you to call Mrs. Padilla and remind her to come home.”

“You really think he doesn’t know the time? The whole house is smart. He could ask any device and get an answer faster than asking you. He called you over for a reason—how much more obvious can he get?”

Marian felt sweat bead on her forehead. So this was what it was like to work for someone like him? No wonder Miss always double-thought everything she said around him. Mr. Padilla really played mind games on another level.

Patricia got Marian’s call just as her car rolled through the gates of Cloud Peak. She saw who was calling, figured it was a ‘come home now’ reminder, and didn’t bother answering.

Marian stood there, phone in hand, a little helpless. She looked at Oliver and said, “Sir, Miss didn’t pick up.”

Lincoln heard that and couldn’t help but twitch a smile. Anyone who didn’t know them would think Patricia was Oliver’s daughter. What was with this ‘sir and miss’ combo, anyway?

Oliver didn’t even bother correcting Marian’s wording. “Call again,” he said.

She’d just pulled on her t-shirt when the closet door banged open.

Sara came bursting in, shoving a bag into her hands. “Aunt Patricia, new outfit for you!”

Patricia didn’t even need to look to know what it was. She shot Sara a suspicious look. “Okay, what do you want this time?”

“How could you say that?” Sara plopped onto a chair, grinning like she was up to something. “I just need a little favor.”

Patricia crossed her arms. “Spill.”

Sara leaned in, pouting. “I just want you to talk Uncle Oliver out of taking me home this weekend. Take you, fine, but why drag me along?”

“Home?” Patricia blinked, confused. “Since when?”

Sara nodded so hard she almost gave herself whiplash. “Yep! Uncle Oliver’s taking you to meet the family this weekend!”