You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 868

It always tugged at his heart to see her, someone who cared so much about looking good, just standing in the closet, sighing.

“This is it. One and done. I’m never doing this again. It’s just too much.”

“Mom was saying today, maybe this is the last grandkid she’ll ever have.”

“She’s probably right.”

Patricia had listened to Oliver sigh more times today than she could count. Every time she coughed, he let out a sigh. Every time he saw her shifting around, trying to get comfortable, there it was again.

It was driving her up the wall.

Honestly, it was so annoying she started to wonder if she was on her last legs.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go out?”

“You kicking me out already?” Mr. Padilla arched an eyebrow. “I don’t have to go. You’re not feeling well. They’ll get it.”

“It’s been a while since you saw everyone. You should go.” Please, just go already. If you don’t leave, I might lose my mind.

“Go on. I’ll be good and wait for you to come back,” Patricia said, setting down her mug. She straightened up, wrapped her arms around his waist from the side, and rubbed her cheek against him like a spoiled cat.

She blinked up at him, eyes bright and clear, giving him a soft, questioning hum.

“You want to come with me?”

“Mom won’t let me out, no way.” Just that afternoon, she’d already scolded Oliver for taking Patricia out to the stables the night before, knowing full well she wasn’t feeling great.

“Then I won’t go either.”

“I’ll just have Roger drop off the gift.”

Patricia was speechless.

Men who never want to leave home… turns out, that’s not such a great thing after all.

…

The phone started buzzing.

That evening, Jackson had just set the takeout on the table when his phone vibrated with two quick messages.

He glanced at the screen.

Hector had poked him first.

Then another message: Want to play basketball?

Jackson rolled his eyes. Once in the morning, now again at night? Was Hector trying to kill him?

Guess that’s what happens when you’re a high-flyer. Unlimited energy.

Jackson replied: Not playing.

At first, he’d been the one holding all the cards.

But lately, things had flipped.

Chelsea was treating him like a puppy in training.

Knock, knock, knock.

Jackson hadn’t even finished his spicy hotpot when someone pounded on the door, making him jump so hard the slice of beef fell off his chopsticks and splashed back into his bowl.

Oil splattered everywhere.

Muttering under his breath, he grabbed a napkin to mop up the mess, then quickly closed the finance lecture playing on his laptop.

Irritated, he stomped over to the door, ready to let loose. But the second he saw who it was, all the words just died.

“Mr. McKee? What brings you here?”

Hector stood in the doorway, gaze sweeping past Jackson, checking out the apartment. “You eaten yet?”

“I’m eating right now. Want to come in?”

It was like Hector had just been waiting for that. As soon as Jackson said it, he stepped inside, totally at ease.

Jackson stared. What’s the rush? Is he here to catch someone in the act?