Boss, Your Ex-Wife is Unreachable Now! novel Chapter 189

The next round of dishes arrived, and with that, the group settled into eating, letting the near-disastrous conversation from earlier fade into the background.

Lionel's recommendation had been spot-on—the French restaurant was exceptional. There was a particular sweet and sour pork that was prepared differently than how Willow usually made it at home, and she found herself wanting to learn the recipe.

As for Juliette, she was in her own world, savoring every bite, barely pausing between mouthfuls.

Lionel really was the quintessential son of privilege. Even as he chatted and ate, his manners were impeccable, his every gesture graceful and pleasant to watch. Willow couldn't help but compare him to Beasley.

Truth be told, she could count on one hand the number of times she'd actually shared a meal with Beasley. It was usually only during the holidays, or on her father's birthday, that they'd end up sitting at the same table at Windsor Estate.

In their own home at Baycrest Villas, they had never once eaten together.

Which was why, by their second year of marriage, she'd had a perfectly reasonable excuse to dismiss the household staff.

She'd told them it was to avoid letting others see the awkwardness between her and Beasley. He hadn't cared either way, simply telling her to do as she pleased.

Thinking back to how he behaved at the table, Beasley had always been the picture of restraint and elegance, but he never engaged in conversation. He was like a statue—cold, distant, not a hint of warmth or life.

Mr. Scott, on the other hand, was so much better. If Lettie ever ended up with someone like Mr. Scott, at least she wouldn't feel smothered or frozen out at the dinner table.

As the meal wound down, Willow excused herself from Juliette and Lionel and headed to the restroom.

On her way out, she pushed open the door and nearly collided with a line of servers carrying an array of dishes into the private dining room next door. She stepped aside, barely registering who was inside.

But someone in that room had noticed her. Through the open doorway, a man's gaze landed squarely on Willow.

His sharp features softened with surprise.

"President Windsor, it's truly an honor to have you dine with us," the owner of the French restaurant gushed, practically bowing as he personally described the specialties of each dish being brought in. "I hope our food is to your taste."

She really did love French food.

He laughed under his breath, glancing up just in time to catch a glimpse—through the still-open door—of another man emerging from the room across the hall.

The smile vanished from his lips, freezing in place.

That man—he'd just seen his photo and background information last night. Lionel.

Willow was here having dinner alone with Lionel?

He'd refused to eat her French cooking back then, and now she was sharing a meal with another man?

Beasley couldn't stop the flood of wild thoughts racing through his mind. He even remembered his cousin Eve's call from the night before. She'd said that Willow and Lionel were so close, it wouldn't be surprising if they were already sharing a bed.