Chapter 6 His Physical Strength

Nadine found herself in a sudden swirl of embarrassment.

Carsten's financial standing was nothing to her, be it penniless or opulent.

Yet, there he was, putting on airs of affluence like Denis. Witnessing his theatrics left her utterly dumbfounded.

She regarded him with a mixture of astonishment and disappointment.

At this moment, the manager, Danilo Morgan, rushed back in haste. His gaze lingered on the assemblage outside Luxe Private Room, finally settling on Carsten.

Could this be the VIP the boss warned he should not offend?

Danilo, though recognizing an air of authority, remained uncertain.

Why would a man of such wealth choose their three-star hotel for a meal?

Danilo felt greatly honored as he cautiously approached Carsten and asked, "Are you, by any chance, Mr. Fletcher?"

"Yes," Carsten replied flatly.

Hearing this, Danilo responded with utmost deference, "Sir, our boss has just phoned me. He instructed me to arrange the finest private room for you. Please, this way."

Denis, Nadine, and the rest stood there, jaws dropping.

"Let's go and have dinner first," Carsten said to Nadine, who was still in a state of shock.

"Do you happen to know the owner?"

"I have no acquaintance with him," Carsten admitted.

To everyone's disbelief, they were ushered into a private room.

As they settled in, Denis refrained from delivering the cutting remarks he had prepared upon hearing the employees' chatter.

"Is this the most opulent box here? It's vast and sumptuous."

"I heard the minimum expenditure in this room exceeds five thousand, with an additional fifteen percent service charge. Will they comp us the service charge later?"

"Most likely. Can't you see the owner is quite partial to Nadine's husband?"

Denis seethed. Glancing at Carsten, who was pulling a chair for Nadine, he grumbled, "Carsten, the minimum expenditure here is well beyond our budget. You'll be footing the bill."

Danilo interjected, "Mr. Fletcher, our boss insists you order anything you desire today. It's on the house. Furthermore, he's on his way here and wishes to toast you personally. I hope you won't decline."

Denis's face darkened.

Carsten, hailing from humble origins and currently financially strained, puzzled everyone with the owner's profound respect.

"Carsten," Nadine questioned, tugging at his sleeve, "What's your connection with the owner? Why is he treating you with such deference?"

Carsten handed her the menu, saying, "Take a look and order what you wish."

With myriad questions swirling in her mind, Nadine found it challenging to focus on the menu.

"Select your dishes," Carsten reminded her.

During the meal, Danilo and the waitstaff attended to Carsten with utmost respect.

Carsten responded briefly to the employees' inquiries, leaving most answers to Nadine.

Denis, wearing a scowl, refrained from expressing the caustic remarks he had in mind.

As dinner concluded, they prepared to leave. Danilo respectfully informed him, "Mr. Fletcher, our boss is caught in traffic. Could you wait a few minutes? He wishes to meet you in person."

Carsten, understanding the owner's eagerness, thought for a moment.

He then glanced at Danilo's name tag and said, "Mr. Morgan, may I have a word with you in private?"

Carsten walked a few paces away, with Danilo following respectfully.

Cutting to the chase, Carsten said, "I'm grateful for your assistance today. I'll have my secretary settle the bill later. If your boss encounters any difficulties in the future, direct him to my secretary. I'm pressed for time and won't be able to thank your boss in person."

After hearing this, Danilo understood Carsten and refrained from asking him to stay.

The boss had instructed him that it would be best if Carsten agreed.

In the event Carsten refused, they decided to sweeten the pot by gifting him the best of their wines.

So, Danilo got a bottle of wine and insisted that Carsten take it.

After Carsten turned down the offer, Danilo turned to Nadine to ask her to take the wine.

"Did the fat manager just force a bottle of wine into Nadine's hands?"

"That bottle of wine is worth twenty grand. Not only did we get a free pass on the bill, but they also wanted to give us a top-shelf bottle."

"Denis, you shouldn't have ribbed Carsten earlier. He's a bigwig around here!"

Denis snorted, a cocktail of jealousy and resentment brewing within him.

"What's the big deal? He's flat broke. Doubt he'd cut the mustard anywhere else!"

At that moment, Carsten returned.

"Carsten, what's your connection with the hotel owner?" Nadine asked.

Casually, Carsten replied, "He's a friend of a friend. He owes my buddy a favor, and my buddy owes me one."

So, the owner's generosity stemmed from a complex web of connections?

Nadine thought it made sense, though she was still a little skeptical.

Why would the owner of this place, who wasn't even Carsten's friend, give him a twenty thousand dollar bottle of fine wine after treating them to a free meal?

Unconvinced, she chose not to pry further.

Perhaps Carsten had influential ties from before his financial ship hit the rocks.

"Mr. Wells." At that juncture, Carsten fixed a serious gaze on Denis. "I still remember your pre-dinner proposition. You said that if I get a private room from the owner, you would bark like a contrite dog."

Denis's face turned an interesting shade of red.

His pride was wounded, and humiliation gripped him.

Words eluded him momentarily. A hasty exit was all he craved.

"No need for that." Carsten's eyes were cold. "But remember this: don't bully Nadine again. She's not on her own now."

Whether Carsten knew about Denis's amorous confession and intentions toward Nadine remained uncertain to Denis.

Had Carsten been privy to this, Denis wouldn't have received such leniency.

"She's safe. I won't lay a finger on her," Denis said before departing, a cocktail of embarrassment and ire trailing in his wake.

During their journey back, Nadine contemplated probing Carsten about his connections but thought better of it.

Gratefully, she said, "Thanks for standing up to Denis for me back there."

Carsten replied nonchalantly, "I just don't cotton to him."

"Regardless, I appreciate it." Nadine didn't care about why Carsten helped her, focusing on the act itself.

She fished her phone from her bag, sending a message to Margot, but Margot didn't respond.

Initially, she attributed Margot's radio silence to the chaos of taking care of her kids.

Yet, as the hours morphed into a day and her messages to Margot piled up, a nagging concern gnawed at Nadine.

Did Margot get sick?

Or had something happened?

Nadine's worry percolated.

Determined to unravel the mystery, Nadine dialed Margot's number.

Nadine's concern deepened as five consecutive calls to Margot went unanswered, leaving her on edge.

The idea of heading to Margot's house to check on her came to her mind.

Beside her, Carsten broke the silence. "Aren't you curious about something?"

Arching an eyebrow, Nadine turned to him. "Curious about what?"

"Perhaps, the events at the hotel," Carsten suggested, locking eyes with her.

"You said that the owner's a pal of your friend's friend, he lent a hand. What more is there to know?"

If his words held truth, delving further into the matter seemed redundant.

And if he chose not to tell her the actual reason, further probing was useless.

Thus, she decided to forget about it.

Carsten nodded, opting for silence.

A sense of ease enveloped him in her presence. He extracted his phone, engrossed in perusing a document.

Meanwhile, Nadine persisted in her attempts to reach Margot.

The two remained silent in the car.

Returning to the rental abode, Carsten grappled with adjusting to the cramped house, a marked contrast from his accustomed space.

But today, his aversion seemed less vehement than yesterday.

The sofa had not provided a restful night's sleep, diminishing the quality of his repose.

Fearing that it would happen again tonight, he did some physical exercises in the living room while Nadine showered.

After half an hour, Nadine emerged from the bathroom.

A fitness enthusiast herself, she observed Carsten, counting his exertions.

A total of 120 pushups and 120 jumping jacks, all executed without a pause.

His stamina was remarkable.

His attire clung to his body, saturated with sweat, accentuating the sinews in his arms.

He must have surpassed the prescribed count because he was doing his exercise before she came out of the bathroom.

His vitality was palpable.

Observing him rise, Nadine, somewhat abashed, asked, "Do you also have a penchant for exercise?"

"I didn't sleep well yesterday," Carsten disclosed, wiping away sweat. "Physical activity facilitates a more serene slumber."

Looking at the sofa, Nadine suggested, "Are you uncomfortable sleeping here? How about taking the bed tonight?"

"Thank you, but no," he declined. "The living room has mosquitoes that persistently buzz around my ears. Do you have any method to deal with it?"

Nadine contemplated and replied, "I'll light mosquito repellent incense before bedtime. The rental house's environment is subpar, and I neglected to screen the windows. Mosquitoes are an inevitable intrusion."

She added, "However, once my new house is decorated, we can relocate. It might take a few months, though."

"You've purchased a house?" asked Carsten.

"Yes, financed through a loan. Monthly mortgage payments are mandatory."

"Where's it?"

"It's a modest residence in the suburbs. But the surroundings are superior to this place."

Even a tiny house in Faysage demanded a hefty sum.

Initial payments necessitated one or two million upfront.

Nadine belonged to the lowest social class. The fact that she could afford a home in Faysage was a bit shocking.

Carsten volunteered, "I've secured new employment. When my salary arrives, I'll contribute to the monthly mortgage."

Nadine remained silent.

Legal matrimony now bound them. If he chose to share financial burdens, she wouldn't refuse him.

As night descended, mosquitoes refrained from tormenting Carsten. However, the pervasive scent of repellent incense hindered his descent into slumber.

Unable to succumb to sleep, he resolved to think about the relationship between him and Nadine.

Two days of companionship had not rendered her irksome. Instead, he perceived a divergence from most women he encountered.

The next morning, Nadine arose early, noting Carsten's unwashed clothes.

She took the liberty of placing them in the washing machine.

Even his undergarments underwent her efforts, poised for balcony drying.

Upon Carsten's awakening, he confronted her with a furrowed brow.

"Why did you wash my underwear?" he asked as he walked over, his tone stern.