Heiress' Househusband is a Secret Billionaire - Chapter 413

Chapter 413: Why Are You An Old Bachelor?

Fifteen minutes before noon, Lariette and Ruediger left their apartment with two boxes of desserts. They dressed neatly and casually for Mr. Eastwood’s housewarming party.

Lariette carried the box with walnut date bites even though the cake box was lighter. Ruediger joked she shouldn’t sneakily take another one before they got to the party.

The corridor was quiet save for their footsteps. They saw no one in sight. The recessed lights cast a soft glow, reflected on the polished floor.

Lariette and Ruediger stepped into the elevator. They just needed to go to the floor above. When they emerged a few seconds later, they caught liveliness coming from the hallway.

“That unit,” Lariette gestured to the hallway ahead of them, “I think that’s Mr. Eastwood’s.”

The door of that particular unit was slightly ajar. The indistinct echo of chatter and laughter also came from it. Some of the guests had arrived.

Mr. Eastwood had made arrangements with Mr. Hayes, the manager of this apartment.

Each guest had to report to the receptionist upon arrival. Their identities would be checked from the list provided by Mr. Eastwood. Then, they would be escorted upstairs.

It couldn’t be helped. This was a standard procedure if any resident wanted to host a gathering. The management was very strict in allowing outsiders in.

The pair continued walking down the hallway until they reached the unit. Even though the door was already open, Ruediger still knocked. In no time, Mr. Eastwood appeared.

“Ah, my new neighbors made it. Miss Elsher, Mr. Alvord, welcome. Thank you for taking your time to come. Almost everyone’s here.”

Mr. Eastwood greeted them with a polite smile. He looked more relaxed than he usually did at school. He wore a light checkered sweater and loose wool pants instead of his typical shirt.

“Thank you for having us,” Ruediger nodded slightly, his smile light.

“We brought something sweet,” Lariette grinned, lifting the box in her hands a little, “I’m just a courier tho. Can’t take any credit for making it.”

Mr. Eastwood laughed softly. Then, he ushered them inside, “Mr. Alvord’s baking prowess is already known. Come in. Don’t just stand there.”

Lariette and Ruediger followed Mr. Eastwood. As he said, some of the teachers were already present. Most of them brought their partners.

They mingled in the spacious living room. Some of them stood on the balcony outside to admire the view.

“Lari! You’re here!”

A beaming Nora waved from the dining area. Phoebe was beside her while holding a cup of hot tea. Like everyone else, they looked cheerful as if the lingering shadows of the busy period had dissipated.

“Oh, you brought dessert!” Phoebe exclaimed once she saw the pair holding the pastry boxes, “Awesome. I can’t wait to try them.”

Lariette laughed, her eyes glinting with mirth, “Can’t take any credit, you know. I just helped taste-test.”

“Ah, the best job of all,” Nora chuckled.

Lariette and Ruediger placed the desserts on the table. It was set buffet-style, full of winter comfort foods.

The guests could find hearty stews, casseroles, grilled beef slices, roasted vegetables, and fresh bread rolls. The scents of thyme, rosemary and butter filled the air warmly.

At a glance, Lariette thought that Mr. Eastwood’s apartment reflected his personality well.

Shelves filled with books lined the walls, a few paintings hung above the modest sofa set and green plants nestled on the windowsills. She didn’t see anything too extravagant here.

Mr. Eastwood approached them. Once again, he thanked the pair for the additional desserts. As for the rest of the food, he ordered from a renowned catering service.

“Your apartment’s cozier than I expected,” Ruediger commented as he handed over a cake knife to Mr. Eastwood, “So many books and paintings.”

Mr. Eastwood smiled, “Thank you. I like quiet things.”

Soon, more people arrived, including Principal Smith and his wife. The party began with Mr. Eastwood thanking them for their attendance. A few teachers joked that this party came at the right time after the previous busy weeks.

Everyone had either a plate or a glass, or both, in hand as they gathered around the living room. The conversation flowed easily between bites.

The atmosphere was warm and casual, like a gathering of old friends rather than just colleagues. Ruediger mingled well with Lariette’s colleagues. He also chatted with their partners.

After a round of socializing, Lariette sat in a corner of the large couch. Nora and Phoebe were with her while Ruediger was talking to Benjamin, Howard and others.

Somehow, one of the male teachers shifted the topic of their conversation to the host.

“So, Mr. Eastwood,” Stephen began after a sip of beer, slightly tipsy, “Forgive my boldness, but how are you still single at your age? Surely some woman would’ve snatched you up by now. Wanna be an old bachelor?”

Phoebe nearly choked on her drink, “Stephen!”

“What? I’m just curious,” Stephen grinned unabashedly, “He’s a good teacher, means he’s a good man. He even got such an apartment. Our Mr. Eastwood is rich.”

From the beginning of Mr. Eastwood’s arrival, the teachers at the middle school were aware that he was a private person. He was polite to everyone, but it was evident he kept some distance.

Some of the nosy teachers wanted to know more about this middle-aged gentleman. It was the same bunch who tried to probe into Lariette’s personal life, especially after knowing she was indeed from the prominent Elsher family. Even her husband’s identity was extraordinary.

Fortunately, they didn’t cross the line. They knew the nice principal wouldn’t tolerate such a matter.

And now the drunken Stephen asked something that touched on Mr. Eastwood’s private life.

Principal Smith sighed. Frowning, he glared at Stephen, “Mr. Hanson, stop.”

Realizing the usually jovial principal was upset with him, Stephen’s mind regained a little clarity. He stammered, “Ah… That, I don’t mean too… Forget it, Mr. Eastwood. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Mr. Eastwood’s expression faltered for a brief moment when Stephen brought up the inquiry. His fingers adjusted the rim of his glass.

“It’s okay. I know you mean no harm,” he said, voice softer, “Well… I was engaged once. Decades ago.”

The group fell quiet. No one expected Mr. Eastwood to answer Stephen. Some of them couldn’t help but sense something delicate beneath his words and expression.

“She left me for someone else,” he continued, eyes fixed somewhere on one of the bookshelves, “I thought I’d move past it. I suppose… I never really did. So, I’m alone until now.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, Mr. Eastwood,” Stephen’s tone shifted. He silently reprimanded himself for touching this sensitive subject, thanks to his mouth.

“It was a lifetime ago,” Mr. Eastwood smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “But no need to let old ghosts haunt a party. Eat and drink more, come on.”

“Haha… let’s drink!”

When the group tried to lighten the heavy atmosphere, Lariette pursed her lips. She disliked it when people, especially mere acquaintances, pried into others’ private pains.

Still, Mr. Eastwood handled it with grace.

Lowering her head, Lariette silently ate the carrot cake. She didn’t notice the brief look of resentment Mr. Eastwood threw at her before gentleness returned to his eyes.