Chapter 32
"Grocery shopping," Josephine said flatly.
Based on what Josephine knew, Oscar definitely had zero food at home.
Oscar finally relaxed with a sigh of relief. "You little brat, trying to give me a heart attack?"
Josephine turned, giving him a weary look. "At your age, you're still lying to people? I can't follow your example. I never play those games."
Oscar's face flushed with embarrassment. "That's only because you never come visit me!" He'd been driven to desperate measures.
Josephine remained quiet for a moment, then stepped forward to help Oscar into the car. "You head back first. I'll go to the market for groceries and later you can taste my cooking."
Oscar finally agreed.
"I'll go with you," Cedric said. He instructed Noah to drive Oscar and Kenneth back to the house.
The two of them walked along the street together.
"You really don't need to babysit me," Josephine said. "I actually lived here for a while before."
"You lived here?" Cedric looked at her.
Meeting his gaze, Josephine's heart did that nervous little flip. Crap. She'd slipped up.
That year, before she'd ever met Gideon, she and her mentor had come to this city for a conference. She'd had too much to drink one night, despite her pathetic alcohol tolerance... which led to that one reckless night.
Their interactions had been so normal lately, even occasionally in sync, that Josephine had almost forgotten their awkward history.
She quickened her pace.
Cedric, with his annoyingly long legs, easily kept up. "How long did you stay here?"
"Just a few days," Josephine answered vaguely.
In her rush, she failed to notice a patch of ice. Her foot slipped, and she fell backward. Instinctively, she reached out to grab something, but there was nothing nearby. She closed her eyes, accepting her fate.
The next second, she felt a tug at her neck.
Opening her eyes, she found Cedric holding her up by her collar.
"...you can let go now." He was practically choking her. She quickly planted her feet firmly on the ground.
Cedric released his grip.
"Thanks for that."
After she thanked him, Cedric walked past her, his deep voice carried away by the cold wind. "Sorry. I'm not good at helping people."
He rarely had physical contact with women—or more accurately, he avoided it. Even with Josephine, he maintained his distance. In fact, because of her position, he felt he needed to be even more careful.
Hearing this, Josephine actually felt more at ease. Cedric would make a good partner. A reliable, trustworthy leader.
They bought many items at the market, returning with three bags. Cedric carried two while Josephine hugged a comforter.
Oscar and Kenneth rushed to help when they returned.
"Why did you buy a comforter?" Oscar asked, puzzled.
"It's a down comforter for you—lightweight but super warm."
Josephine took it straight to the bedroom, discovering that her mentor was still using the same old comforter from years ago. That thing wouldn't keep anyone warm in a heated garage, let alone the mountains.
When she emerged from the bedroom, she found Kenneth already busy in the kitchen. She was about to go help when she looked up and met Cedric's gaze.
That look in his eyes... strangely unreadable.
"What is it? Do I have something on my face?"
"No." Cedric glanced toward the kitchen. "I suggest you check on Kenneth before he burns down the kitchen."
Josephine hurried to investigate.
In the living room, Cedric stared at his fingertips, deep in thought. No mistake. That scent...
"Cedric, come to my study for a moment," Oscar called.
Cedric glanced at the kitchen before heading to the study.
With Josephine and Kenneth working together, they quickly prepared a feast. The four of them gathered around the dining table.
Cedric accidentally dropped his utensils, which landed near Josephine.
"Could you grab that for me?"
Josephine bent down, reaching out, but her hand collided with Cedric's. He had already bent down himself.
Josephine looked at him, confused.
Cedric took the utensils from her hand. "Thank you."
It seemed he'd only wanted to retrieve his utensils, but if he could reach them, why ask for her help? Josephine couldn't figure him out.
After dinner, Josephine gathered the dishes in the kitchen. She hated letting chores pile up and prepared to clean them.
Cedric walked into the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves. "Let me handle this."
Josephine was surprised. "You know how to wash dishes?"
Could this privileged rich boy really do household chores?
Indeed, Cedric could. He moved with such skill and ease that Josephine couldn't even help—her assistance would have just gotten in the way.
"I lived in an apartment when I was in college here. I used to shop and cook for myself."
Josephine's eyelid twitched. "Really... that's impressive."
"You mentioned you've been here before. Where did you stay?"
"Oh, right." Josephine stuck to saying as little as possible. What happened years ago absolutely could not come to light. Cedric hadn't recognized her. That was a good thing.
Their relationship couldn't afford to get more complicated, and besides, dredging up the past would serve no purpose now.
"I wonder if we ever crossed paths back then."
Hearing this, Josephine's hand jerked, dropping the dishcloth.
Cedric turned to look at her. "You seem nervous."
"Not at all." Josephine picked up the cloth and placed it in the sink. "I'm just a bit stuffed from dinner. I'm going for a walk to digest. Take your time cleaning up."
She left before Cedric could respond.
Watching her hasty retreat, Cedric's gaze grew more intense.
He set aside his task and left the dining room, instructing Noah who waited nearby. "Find out if Josephine visited this city three years ago."
"Yes, sir." Noah paused. "Mr. Getty, I have news about the person you've been looking for."
Cedric frowned slightly. "Tell her to wait. I'll see her myself when we return."
"Understood."
For years, Cedric had been searching for a woman, but strangely, he knew nothing about her appearance. He only knew the time and place of their encounter, and the gardenia scent she wore.
Noah didn't dare ask questions—he simply did his job diligently.
Cedric turned away. The familiar fragrance on his fingertips had been washed away, as if it had all been a dream. But he knew it wasn't.
He remembered every detail of that night—bodies intertwined, sleepless hours, that distinctive gardenia scent filling his senses. In the quiet of night, he would recall that scent.
Oddly enough, no other gardenia perfume ever smelled the same to him. Perhaps it had mixed with her natural scent.
After three years, he'd finally found that exact same fragrance again.
On Josephine.