Hi Ex, Your Uncle Is My Hubby Now - Chapter 73: Chapter 73

It was early spring, and the pomegranate tree was budding, bursting with life.
Noticing Irene standing transfixed in the courtyard, Dorian assumed it was her first visit and offered, "The owner of this restaurant is some Norton."
"But actually, Uncle Jeremy is the real backer behind this place.
"Don't let the understated decor fool you—this place is always fully booked."
After all, no one was there just for the food.
They were all just there to cozy up to Jeremy.
But this wasn't Irene's first time there.
In the past, Jeremy had specially hosted a private dinner for Irene at this very restaurant.
Only Irene was invited.
Though Irene found the invitation a bit odd, she still dressed appropriately and arrived at the restaurant right on time.
Irene still vividly remembered what had happened that day.
It was early October, the air crisp with autumn chill. Jeremy sat in his wheelchair, his gaunt frame draped in a smoke-gray suit—thin as withered wood, lending him an air of frailty.
It must have been terminal lucidity—For once, his usually pallid face was uncharacteristically flushed with color.
He sat before the pomegranate tree, his face more captivating than the crimson pomegranates themselves.
As soon as Irene stepped into the courtyard, she froze at the sight of Jeremy in his wheelchair, engrossed in a stack of documents. For a moment, she just stood there, momentarily dazed.
She had always heard people say what a strikingly handsome and extraordinary man Jeremy was.
But ever since Irene had first met Jeremy, the image that had stuck in her mind was always that of a sickly, frail man.
That was the first time Irene truly saw just how strikingly handsome Jeremy was.
Actually, Irene couldn't quite remember what Jeremy had specifically said to her that day.
All she could remember was Jeremy reminding her, "Take care of your health—get regular checkups, and don't abuse your youth by pulling all-nighters."
Jeremy said earnestly, "The heart is your body's most vital organ—protect it at all costs."
Back then, Irene thought Jeremy was just so annoying—like a total mother hen.
He didn't have much time left, yet instead of spending it with his family or nephew, there he was lecturing Irene—his nephew's fiancée-to-be.
Even then, when Irene thought back to those ambiguous words Jeremy had said that day, a rather unbelievable suspicion crept into her mind—Could it be...?
Irene wondered, 'Did Jeremy find out the truth that Dorian was using me?
'Did Jeremy deliberately arrange to meet me alone without Dorian knowing? Was he trying to warn me to stay away from Dorian—and to protect my heart?
'If that was really the case, when did Jeremy find out about all this?'
'Does Jeremy know the truth now, or is he still in the dark?' Irene wondered, uncertainty swirling in her mind.
"Rini," Ruth noticed Irene staring at the pomegranate tree and, thinking she was craving pomegranates, chuckled. "They won't be ripe until October. Stop staring and come eat with us."
Snapping back to reality, Irene gently took Ruth's arm and escorted her into the dining area.
Dorian had called ahead to reserve a table. As soon as they arrived, two middle-aged waitresses promptly wheeled over a serving cart and began serving.
Irene noticed the waitresses stayed silent throughout, communicating solely in sign language.
As soon as the waitresses left, Ruth asked Dorian, "Those two just now—are they deaf and nonverbal?"
"Yes." Dorian poured a glass of fresh juice for Ruth and said, "All the staff here are people with special needs.
"The head chef here, Mr. Lance Norton, is also deaf and nonverbal."
"Really?" Ruth looked surprised.
It was not unusual for the chef to be deaf and mute, but when even the waitstaff were, it really showed the owner behind this place must have a heart of gold.
Ruth patted Irene's hand and said warmly, "This owner seems like someone worth getting to know. Doesn't tour studio hold a team dinner every month, Rini?
"Wherever we go, it's all the same—let's just come here from now on and support the owner's business."
Irene thought, 'I'd love to, but I'm just not in that league yet.'
Irene turned to Ruth and said, "Grandma, we can't just walk into a restaurant like this whenever we want. You need a reservation—and the right connections, too."
Ruth nodded knowingly and said, "Just like they say, good wine needs no bush. With such delicious food and such a kind-hearted owner, this place will never lack customers."
A hint of condescending amusement flickered in Dorian's eyes as he listened.
Dorian thought, 'She's just an old lady from the countryside—how could she possibly understand the complicated games of city life?'
This was Eldraeth City's prime business district—where every square foot would cost a fortune. How could a small-time chef like Lance possibly afford to open a restaurant there?
Anyone in the know could tell Jeremy was the real owner behind this place.
Even the wages for these deaf staff were all covered by Jeremy.
Anyone who managed to secure a reservation there was already halfway into Jeremy's exclusive circle—only the city's true big shots made the cut.
As if some small-time studio like Irene's could just waltz in and get a reservation there!