Chapter 97: Coaxing the Wife
Vivian Lowell and Vance Wyatt finished their lunch. Vivian wiped her mouth in satisfaction and glanced at Vance.
"Huh? Was the food not to your liking? You barely ate anything!"
Vivian was a little confused.
Hearing Vivian’s question, Vance snapped out of it and gave a wry smile. "Um... I ate a lot this morning, so I’m still not very hungry. Mrs. Faulkner, are you full?"
"I’m full."
Vivian looked at the few pieces of broccoli left, picked up the serving chopsticks, and placed two florets on Vance’s plate. "You should eat more vegetables. Don’t be a picky eater."
"Alright, I’m going to go for a walk downstairs, and then I’ll come back up for a nap. Could you please clean this up for me?"
"Of course, Mrs. Faulkner." Vance agreed respectfully. He only breathed a sigh of relief after he saw Vivian leave the office.
"Sigh!"
Vance sighed.
’The entire time we were eating, all I could think about was whether President Faulkner would be unhappy if he found out I was actually eating with Mrs. Faulkner. How could I possibly have an appetite!’
Now...
Vance glanced at the food on the table, which Mrs. Faulkner had clearly and deliberately "left" for him. Driven by the principle of not wasting food, he had no choice but to eat it.
’I hope President Faulkner doesn’t find out about this!’
「At one o’clock.」
Julian Faulkner had just finished his work and was only now getting to his lunch.
He was quite far from the Faulkner Group headquarters, about a forty-minute drive. A business partner had invited him out for Japanese food, but Julian had declined.
"I still have work this afternoon, my apologies. I’ll just grab a bowl of noodles somewhere."
Julian politely refused and found a noodle shop by the roadside, where he went in for a bowl of beef noodles.
Julian was eating his noodles intently when a middle-aged man walked in. His hair was thinning, but he seemed to be in high spirits.
"Boss, the usual! A small bowl of beef noodles for my wife. Make it extra spicy, I’m taking it to go for her!"
The owner heard him and chuckled, readily agreeing. "You’re so good to your wife!"
"How could I not be?"
The middle-aged man smiled, looking quite proud. "My wife works hard. It’s only right that I bring her lunch!"
"..."
Julian’s hand, holding his chopsticks, paused.
Just then, the middle-aged man seemed to notice Julian’s pause and sheepishly put away the cigarette he had just taken out.
"Sorry about that, I’ll go smoke outside!"
Julian gave a slight nod but said nothing.
What bothered him wasn’t the cigarette, but the proud expression on the man’s face, which had taken him by surprise.
’Is bringing your wife lunch really something to be so proud of?’
Julian had never known that.
He thought for a moment, then picked up his phone and sent a message to Vivian Lowell.
"How was lunch? Did you like it?"
The reply was almost instantaneous.
Vivian had just been for a walk downstairs and was on her way back up to the office to lie down for her lunch break. She was just habitually scrolling through her phone before her nap.
"It was delicious!"
Vivian was very pleased, so she tapped out a reply: "I really liked it, but Vance Wyatt didn’t seem to have much of an appetite."
"But he still finished it by the time I went upstairs. Thank you, Julian Faulkner!"
???
Julian stared at Vivian’s reply, the smile on his lips freezing.
’What?’
’Vance ate with her?’
Julian pursed his lips, opened his chat with Vance Wyatt, and sent a single "?"
At that very moment, Vance was sitting at his own desk outside the president’s office, chin in his hand, looking gloomy. Colleagues walking by all gave him puzzled looks.
He paid them no mind, because he was genuinely troubled.
Now, his phone chimed. Seeing the "?" from Julian Faulkner was enough to make Vance’s heart stop.
"President Faulkner..."
Vance felt miserable. He obviously knew what Julian meant. Steeling himself, he typed out an explanation, saying, "I really didn’t mean to fight Mrs. Faulkner for the food."
"It’s just that she didn’t seem to know that you had prepared all this specially for her!"
Julian fell silent for a moment, glancing toward the entrance of the beef noodle shop.
Just then, the middle-aged man finished his cigarette and came back inside. He noticed Julian look up at him the moment he entered and felt a little flustered.
’Hey, what’s going on?’
’I’m a contractor, I manage dozens of people, so why am I a little scared of this young man?’
’His presence is so powerful!’
’Wait, do I still smell a bit like smoke?’
’Does this young man not want to inhale secondhand smoke?’
Just as the middle-aged man was racking his brain, wondering if he should leave for a bit and come back after the young man had finished his noodles, Julian spoke first.
"I have a question for you."
"..."
If it weren’t for the extremely serious and earnest expression on Julian’s face, the middle-aged man would have almost thought Julian was trying to mess with him.
"Go ahead, ask."
"Excuse me, when you bring your wife lunch, what do you say?"
Julian mustered his courage, asking with great humility.
As he said the word "wife," he felt his heart beat just a little faster, and his ears grew slightly hot.
"That...?"
The middle-aged man thought it was a strange question, but Julian’s aura was so intense that he felt compelled to answer.
"I just bring the noodles to my wife and say, ’Honey, you’ve had a long day at work. I brought you some noodles—it’s your favorite, beef noodles!’ It’s not that hard!"
Julian blinked, looking at the middle-aged man.
’That’s a little cheesy,’ he thought.
The middle-aged man stared at Julian for a good while, then, as if something dawned on him, he asked, "You’re trying to buy something for your wife?"
Julian nodded, his expression sincere.
Hearing this, the middle-aged man’s interest was piqued. He clapped Julian on the shoulder and said, "My friend, you’ve come to the right person."
"Everyone around these parts knows I dote on my wife the most! Let me tell you, there’s an art to it!"
Julian glanced at the time.
It was ten minutes until one-twenty. If he left at one-twenty, the forty-minute drive would get him there exactly at two o’clock to pick up Vivian Lowell and go to the hospital together.
"Alright, tell me about it. You have ten minutes."
Julian was dead serious.
"COUGH COUGH COUGH..."
The middle-aged man broke into a coughing fit, nearly choking.
’What the hell!’
’How can you possibly explain how to make your wife happy in just ten minutes?’
’Oh, whatever. Seeing how serious this young man is, I guess I’ll just have to try and squeeze it all in!’
「Ten minutes later.」
Julian left the noodle shop with his newfound knowledge.
Hmm...
He had learned a few things, but he had no idea if they would actually work to make Vivian Lowell happy.