You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 942

His leg was messed up, walking was a struggle, so how could he even bother Chelsea? Let him stay. Seriously, just let him stay and rest.

“Besides, Grandma’s here. If you don’t trust me, at least you trust Grandma, right?”

Atticus glanced around the table, suddenly realizing he couldn’t count on a single person here. Grandma always let the kids get away with everything. Patricia never had a handle on Chelsea, and Oliver? Forget it. Marian was just as bad, always spoiling the kids. Jackson? The best you could hope for was that he wouldn't drag Chelsea out for a wild night. Not one of them was reliable. Really, not a single one.

Patricia caught his hesitation and tried to coax him, her voice soft and sweet. “Uncle, I get so bored staying home alone. Oliver’s been swamped with Grandpa’s funeral for almost a month, and now he has to be at the office during the day. Let Chelsea stay. She’ll keep me company, okay?”

“I don’t mind her staying with you, just make sure she doesn’t go off hanging around with the wrong crowd.”

“Of course,” Patricia promised, nodding quickly. “You can count on me, Uncle.”

As soon as Atticus left, Chelsea perked right up, practically glowing with relief. She was so happy she almost broke into a dance.

Grandma looked over at her, amused. “Don’t get too smug. Your dad could come back any second.”

Chelsea rolled her eyes, her confidence back now that Atticus was gone. “Is he a wolf or something? Always popping his head back in, it’s so annoying.”

...

In the master bedroom’s closet, Patricia tried to get on her tiptoes to fix Oliver’s tie, but he took it from her. “I’ve got it.”

“You really need to stop trying to do everything,” he said.

“You make it sound like I’m made of glass.”

“That’s about right,” Mr. Padilla answered, his tone casual.

He finished with his tie, pulled Patricia close, and spoke gently. “If you need something, just ask the nannies. Don’t do it yourself. I hired three people for a reason. This whole house is here for you. If they can’t figure that out, then they’re in the wrong place.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Padilla.”

“Congratulations, sir.”

“So happy for you, Mr. Padilla.”

On the top floor of Pacific Capital, the elevator doors slid open and every person walking by greeted Oliver with a smile and a congratulations. The news about his baby girl had clearly made it through every corner of the office.

Oliver’s smile didn’t fade for a second. He greeted everyone back, gracious and warm, as if he had all the time in the world.

When he pushed open the door to his office, the first thing he noticed was a crutch leaning against his desk. Then came a voice, oozing sarcasm. “Congrats, Mr. Padilla.”

Hector sat nearby, his leg in a cast propped up on a stool, nearly swallowed by a mountain of paperwork.