He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 22

Jevon Crawford's G-Wagon pulled up in front of the breakfast shop where Ottilie was working.

In the sweltering heat, Jevon stood in line for three minutes.

When he reached the front, he looked at Ottilie and asked, "Ms. Sewell, why are you working here? How much does this even pay?"

"Minimum wage," Ottilie replied flatly. "What would you like, Mr. Crawford?"

"I'll let you recommend something."

Ottilie packed one of every type of pastry they had.

She added a side of breakfast sausage, a boiled egg, and a cup of oatmeal.

"That'll be twenty-three dollars and fifty cents."

Jevon pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. "You have to wake up so early for this! I'm actually looking for a housekeeper. If you like cooking so much, why not work at my place? I'll pay you three grand a month."

Ottilie handed him his change. "I appreciate the offer, Mr. Crawford. But I grew up in the country and don't know my place. I'd only cause trouble for you."

Jevon's amusement faded. He rubbed his nose awkwardly, grabbed his food, and walked away.

Once in the car, he handed the food back to Yorath Fordham in the backseat.

"Back in the day, I just complained once that those pickled vegetables she brought from home were off-brand garbage, and she held a grudge ever since. She just threw it right back in my face."

Yorath opened the white plastic bag, revealing several clumsily shaped pastries.

It was obvious they were made by a beginner.

The oil used to fry the sausage had clearly been reused too many times; the greasy smell was overpowering.

He didn't eat greasy food.

Watching Yorath stare at the food for a long time, Jevon clicked his tongue.

"That's definitely meant for me. She didn't know you were in the car. If she did, she never would've given you fried food..."

Before Jevon could finish his sentence, he caught sight of a familiar figure jogging toward the breakfast shop in the rearview mirror.

He squinted. It was Yves Walden!

Yves walked right into the shop and started helping Ottilie pull food from the fryers.

He bagged orders and worked the register with the ease of a veteran employee.

It alleged that Ottilie was present when Yves supposedly acted inappropriately with a student, painting them as partners in crime.

It detailed how Yorath had been her sugar daddy for five years, how he bankrolled her career... how she got arrogant, and how she constantly sabotaged Nyssa Tarrant.

Every single detail was incredibly specific. Clearly, someone with inside knowledge had paid to have this drafted.

Yorath was referred to by a pseudonym, Ottilie and Yves were named in full, and Nyssa was simply 'Ms. Tarrant.'

The student scandal was already a national sensation, and the investigation was still ongoing.

With this article out, Ottilie was once again public enemy number one, universally despised.

Yves looked anxious. "Don't be upset. They're just talking nonsense. I know you're a good person."

Ottilie put her phone away and smiled. "They're not completely wrong. Mr. Fordham really was my patron back in the day."

Yves froze for a second, his eyes quickly turning red. "Did you go back and ask him for a favor because of me? Did you have to compromise yourself?"

"No," Ottilie replied. "He has someone else in his heart. He won't try anything with me."

Deeply moved, Yves grabbed her hand. "Ottilie, you've been so good to me. I don't even know how to repay you."