He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 232

Ottilie stood perfectly still, offering Lorenzo a polite, poised nod. "Mr. Fordham."

Lorenzo flicked his sleeve dismissively and stormed out in a huff.

Yorath followed him inside from the backyard. His clothes were slightly wrinkled, and a lone leaf clung to his hair.

There was a smattering of potting soil on his shoulder.

Evidently, the older man had thrown a flowerpot at him.

Despite his disheveled state, his posture remained impeccable, his devastating good looks untouched.

Nyssa was the first to leap up, jogging over to Yorath to brush the dirt off his shoulder.

Yorath sidestepped her touch. "It's late. I'll have someone drive you home."

"I'm not leaving tonight," Nyssa insisted. "I have a commercial shoot tomorrow, less than a mile from here."

"It's not convenient," Yorath flatly refused.

Nyssa pivoted her approach. "Then go take a shower. I know you rushed over because of what happened to Quentin, and you haven't eaten breakfast yet. I'll keep you company for lunch, and then I'll go."

Yorath headed upstairs.

Nyssa immediately walked toward the kitchen. "I'll go help cook."

Yvonne blocked her at the dining room entrance. "Ms. Tarrant, the kitchen is a restricted area. No outsiders allowed."

Nyssa laughed, rolling up her sleeves.

"I'm not an outsider. I used to come here all the time."

"I wasn't here back then," Yvonne said flatly. "Now that I am, everything operates according to protocol. Please cooperate with my duties."

Nyssa stiffened but didn't push it.

"Then have them prepare the restorative health broth I brought."

"According to the rules, any food brought by outsiders must clear security checks before consumption. We cannot prepare it today," Yvonne stated.

As an A-list star, Nyssa was used to being treated like royalty wherever she went. She had never been given the cold shoulder like this.

She stood frozen at the dining room entrance.

Ottilie was actually starting to like Yvonne.

This strict manager gave her a hard time and never offered a friendly smile.

But compared to Nyssa, Ottilie realized she was practically getting VIP treatment.

"Why is it all stuff I like?"

The head chef chuckled as he tossed a pan over the stove.

"Mr. Fordham gave the order. He said that for any dish we make, if you take even a single bite, we get a fifty-dollar bonus."

Money really made the world go round. With the right financial incentive, the kitchen staff naturally bent over backward to keep Ottilie happy.

Earning extra cash put them in a great mood, too.

They practically worshipped her as a good luck charm.

They figured they might as well exclusively cook her favorites; that way, no matter what she picked, they were guaranteed a bonus.

Besides, Yorath wouldn't care if none of his own favorite dishes were on the table.

Ottilie poured herself a glass of juice and walked out of the kitchen.

Yorath was already downstairs, changed into casual wear.

The premium fabric perfectly highlighted his broad shoulders and narrow waist. 'Breathtaking' was the only word for it.

Noticing Ottilie's gaze, Yorath glanced at her, though his words were directed at Elian. "Take a look at her."