You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 560

Chelsea stopped at the entrance of her building, eyeing the small ramp under construction. The only way in was the stairs and her camping cart definitely wasn’t making it up on its own.

Just as she was weighing her options, Hector showed up. He must’ve recognized her as a neighbor because he didn’t even hesitate. He grabbed the back of her cart and helped her lug it up the steps.

“Thanks,” she said, a little out of breath.

“No problem. Have we met before? You look kind of familiar,” Hector asked, squinting at her like he was trying to place her.

He was surprised, too. He’d heard ages ago that she lived in the same building as his cousin Patricia, but he hadn’t expected to actually bump into her.

“I’m Hector. Oliver’s friend,” he offered.

Chelsea’s face lit up with recognition. “Oh! Right, Oliver’s mentioned you. I didn’t know you lived here.”

Hector nodded, glancing at her mountain of packages. “You moving the entire post office into your apartment?”

She groaned. “Don’t even joke. I came home just to pick up these deliveries. My boss calls every day to nag me about the packages piling up. It’s driving me nuts.”

Hector laughed. The elevator arrived and he held the door for her. “Honestly, if I were your boss, I’d be calling too. Those parcel shops are tiny. Your cart probably takes up half the store.”

She smirked. “Tell me about it.”

They rode up together. Hector got off one floor above, watching as Chelsea, determined as ever, dragged her cart out of the elevator like she was on some epic moving mission.

He barely got his shoes off inside his apartment when his phone started buzzing like crazy. The executive group chat was blowing up:

@Hector: Help

@Hector: Help

@Hector: Help

Thankfully, Hector’s arrival broke the tension. He didn’t bother talking business and instead turned to Oliver, “By the way, I just got back from a game and ran into your sister-in-law downstairs. She’s this tiny thing, dragging a camping cart stacked with packages, like an ant moving house. Why don’t you get her some help, like a housekeeper or something?”

Truth was, Hector wasn’t in the mood for work talk. They’d already had a meeting before everyone left for the day, and there was nothing urgent. Plus, if Oliver was at home and not stuck at another family dinner with Patricia, they’d clearly had a fight. Might as well play it cool.

Downstairs, Marian handed Patricia a tray. “Come on, sweetheart. Take this up to him.”

Patricia crossed her arms. “I’m not going.”

“Pattie, please! I’m not asking you to give in, just give him an excuse to apologize. That way, Mr. Padilla has to be the first to back down. There’s no need to stay mad,” Marian coaxed.

Patricia didn’t budge.

Marian leaned in, whispering, “Silly girl. If you get him to say sorry first, you still win. The approach is different but the result’s the same.”

Half convinced, half cajoled, Patricia finally picked up the bowl of apricot and plum iced tea, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs to knock on the study door.