Secret Wealthy Marriage
Chapter 905: Controlled_2

Chapter 905: Controlled_2

At first, he didn’t actually like her noise; he was used to his quiet life. But gradually, he became accustomed to her chatter, and later, when he forced her to leave, that was when he realized he had grown used to having her around every day.

So, habit is a terrifying thing. It’s been nearly half a year, and he hasn’t managed to break this habit.

He knew that her relationship with her boyfriend was stable, knew that they were probably going to discuss marriage when the New Year came around, but he couldn’t help wanting to be near her, even though what she said often made him uncomfortable.

The waiter came over and asked the two of them, Bernard Taylor said they just needed a private room for two.

"No, we don’t need a private room, let’s just sit in the Grand Hall, near the window," Avery Graham, with her sharp eyes, insisted. Eating hot pot was about the atmosphere in the Grand Hall, not in a private room unless it was for more than ten people.

Bernard naturally went along with her. The two of them walked over to the table, and then the waiter asked what kind of pot they wanted. Avery ordered a double-flavor hot pot, knowing that Bernard wasn’t too fond of spicy food and preferred something milder. Plus, some ingredients were indeed not suitable for the red palette.

The waiter spoke into the microphone on his chest and relayed to the kitchen, "Table 26, double-flavor hot pot."

Then, the waiter handed over the menu for them to order. Bernard didn’t hold back. He took the pen and ticked off many dishes that he knew Avery liked to eat. Back when they were colleagues and went out with the department for hot pot, he had learned what Avery enjoyed eating.

She liked everything, both meat and vegetables.

After Bernard finished ordering, he passed the menu to Avery. Avery glanced over it, saw there wasn’t much to add since it was already quite a lot, and handed the menu back to the waiter, asking her to serve the dishes as ordered.

Once the waiter left, the two of them just sat there, sipping on the free tea provided by the Hot Pot Restaurant. Bernard took a sip and immediately spat it out, then waved the waiter over again, "Bring us two cans of Wanglaoji."

"Okay," The waiter walked away, and Bernard immediately took the cup of free tea from Avery’s hand, "Don’t drink this, it’s better to drink less of this tea."

"Young Master, there’s nothing wrong with this tea, look around, everyone else seems fine with it." Avery rolled her eyes, aware that Bernard was very particular about the quality of life.

Even before she knew of his Young Master identity, she had realized that he was a finicky man. Now she understood that he, having lived a life of privilege since childhood, naturally wouldn’t care for cheap things.

"What others do has nothing to do with me," Bernard bluntly stated.

"..." Avery didn’t respond. With such differing views, continuing the conversation could easily lead to an argument.

The waiter was quick to set up the pot and serve the dishes. Once the high flame was turned on, the pot began bubbling within minutes. Bernard started adding Avery’s favorite dishes into the pot.

He also prepared the dipping sauce in her bowl. Feeling embarrassed, Avery reached over, "Let me do it."

"..." Bernard looked at her and without a word, continued to do it himself.

Avery wasn’t a fussy woman; she would want a bit of everything like scallions, ginger, garlic, cilantro. He actually quite liked a woman of this type. Those who pick out onions, pick out cilantro—he didn’t like those. If they were fussy about something small like that, life must be full of pickiness for them.

It’s those types of women who are difficult to serve.

He liked this kind of straightforward girl who does as she pleases. Of course, it was only after getting to know Avery that he realized the merit of such girls. Before her, he had thought it normal for girls to be a bit picky.

Avery gave him a look. She always found it odd to be catered to like this. Hadn’t they agreed just to be friends?

Even Michael Auclair had never been so meticulous in catering to her. Being attended to by Bernard, she truly felt uncomfortable.

Thinking of them as friends, Avery recalled the moment at noon. At that time, Bernard pretended not to know her, and the thought made her somewhat angry, "By the way, what was with you and that difficult woman at noon? You acted like you didn’t know me when you saw me. What, was she your date from an arranged match?"

The last question from Avery was indeed in jest, but to her surprise, Bernard admitted it.

"Yes, Mona Cervantes, the Powell Trade lady, my mother arranged the match for me," Bernard openly admitted.