Falling For My Billionaire Savior - Chapter 24: Chapter 24

"Mr. Cooke, what took you so long?" Mason suddenly said.
That worked better than calling my name. I shot up from the couch in an instant, my eyes blazing as I turned toward the door—only to find it still closed, with no one there at all.
"Mason, are you messing with me?" I spun around and demanded.
Mason didn't answer. Something white flew at me, and I caught it out of reflex. It was his suit jacket.
Before I could ask, he was already giving orders. "Take it to the cleaners, then book a table for two at Valen Prime. Tell them to prepare one Wellington steak and a 1982 Château Margaux. We'll be there by 12:20."
Mason rattled off a whole list of instructions and then added, "Go on."
Any trace of sleepiness was completely gone thanks to Mason. I shot him a glare, then turned to leave and get everything done like he ordered.
Just then, there was a soft knock at the door.
Without even looking up, Mason said calmly, "Oliver's here. He'll be in there for about thirty minutes. Just enough time to finish the business talk before you come back. The rest of the time is your show."
I couldn't believe it. "You're that sure it's him?"
"See for yourself," Mason replied.
Of course I didn't believe him, but I walked over and peeked through the peephole. Sure enough, it was Oliver.
I turned back in shock, meeting Mason's smug expression head-on. I honestly wanted to crack open his skull and take a look inside.
Was that really a brain in there? Or was it some kind of chip? Mason calculated everything with robotic precision. He was a typical businessman, a damn capitalist.
But there was no time to waste now. I had to rush back in time no matter what.
I opened the door and saw Oliver standing there, holding a thick stack of reports and documents, looking nervous. As soon as he saw me, he started, "Ms. Gordon, I—"
I didn't bother with him. I rushed out with the suit jacket and headed straight to the dry cleaner. After dropping it off, I went to the restaurant to book a table. I checked off everything Mason had asked me to do, one by one.
By the time I pushed open the office door back at the company, Oliver was already getting ready to leave, saying, "Mr. Knight, I won't take up more of your time. I'll head out now."
I interrupted, "Mr. Cooke, don't go just yet. I was looking for you, actually." Just like Mason said—perfect timing.
Oliver froze when he heard my voice, then quickly plastered on a smile. "Ms. Gordon, you're back? I was just about to come find you and apologize to you."
He glanced at his watch. "It's already noon. I'd like to buy you both lunch to make it up to you. Would that be alright?"
Mason didn't say a word and just looked at me with a smile. I knew it was time for my performance.
I strolled up to Oliver. "Lunch can wait. That old lady you shoved yesterday? I was the one who took her to the hospital. I'm guessing you don't expect me to cover the bill, right?"
"You're right. Of course not. That was my oversight. I'll pay you back right away," Oliver said, reaching into his wallet like he meant it.
"Mr. Cooke, you really are loaded. Carrying thirty thousand dollars in cash on you?" I smiled.
That did the trick. His hand froze, his eyes wide in shock. "How much?"
I blinked innocently. "Only thirty thousand. Medical bills back home really are affordable, huh?"
Oliver's face went pale. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but in the end, he didn't say a word.
The satisfaction bubbling inside me was better than eating ice cream on a scorching summer day.
I kept a straight face despite how good I felt, and pushed the advantage. "The outfit I wore yesterday? Ruined. It was a brand-new piece from Humdale's top designer, Archie Ellis. It totaled 93 thousand dollars. Thanks."
Oliver stumbled back, nearly losing his balance. He barely caught himself on the edge of the table, looking utterly defeated. "I-I—"
I questioned, "Mr. Cooke, you're not trying to get out of paying, are you? Oh, and by the way, that outfit of mine came with a certificate and Archie's autograph."