You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 389

“So you just left them downstairs?”

Oliver shrugged, his voice cool. “They’re the ones being inefficient, not me.”

“You’re amazing, but couldn’t you help them out?”

He shot her a look. “Don’t you want me to live a little longer?”

Patricia blinked, confused. “What does that mean?”

“It means if I spend too much time with them, I’ll die young.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, then wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

The scent of his fresh body wash drifted up, making Oliver tense just a little.

He slid his fingers along the strap of her camisole, about to pull it down, but she stopped him. “Wait.”

He paused, looking at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to go downstairs for a bit.”

“Did you forget something?”

“I’m hungry. I want to get something to eat.”

Mr. Padilla lifted her loose strap back onto her shoulder with a gentle touch. “You didn’t eat dinner?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“Go change your clothes and come down.”

Patricia had already noticed this about Oliver. He could be rigid, but sometimes that wasn’t so bad. Anytime she said she was hungry or thirsty, no matter what they were in the middle of, he’d drop everything to make sure she ate first.

Honestly, with him, eating always came first—like it was the most important thing in the world.

In the dining room, Marian came out from the kitchen, grinning as she carried a big bowl of noodles.

She looked ready to show off, but as soon as she spotted Oliver, she hesitated and swallowed her words.

Patricia called out, “What are you waiting for? Bring it over!”

Marian fidgeted, not daring to move closer.

Patricia noticed her weird expression and glanced at Oliver, confused. “What’s up?”

“Did you put something in my food?” Oliver asked, his tone serious.

“No!” Marian said quickly, flustered.

Back at Cloud Peak, the kitchen always held back on garlic, ginger, and onions for him.

She’d asked him about it once, and he’d just said, “It’s not classy to talk to people when your breath reeks.”

Even with all the breath mints and mouthwash in the world, he liked to avoid the problem from the start.

Marian’s cooking was amazing, but she never held back on the flavor.

Oliver always picked around anything too strong.

Patricia batted her big, innocent eyes at him, pretending to be sweet.

Oliver pressed his lips together, staring at her for a long moment.

A couple minutes ticked by in tense silence.

Then, without a word, he turned and went upstairs, his face cold.

Patricia blinked. Crap. He’s really mad?

She called after him, “Are you mad? I was just teasing! If you don’t like it, I won’t touch you after I eat next time, okay?”

She grumbled under her breath, “Nobody told me old guys could be this petty…”