Chapter 49
Damon watched her take the vacant seat. He still could not believe she pulled something like this, giving everybody a day off.
It was a bold move that he still debated whether to commend or reprimand. But it had caught his attention, wondering what his wife had planned for the rest of the day.
"So, what do you want to discuss?" He heard her ask as she joined him on the counter.
He detected the impatience in her voice as if she could not wait to get this over with. But he also noticed the eyebags in her eyes, confirming his suspicion that she hardly slept last night.
He could not help but wonder if her lack of sleep had something to do with last night's incident. Was she still bothered by her encounter with his brother?
"Do you mind if I take a few bites first?" Truthfully, Damon also heard his stomach growl upon sniffing the delicious aroma of the bread she had just taken out of the oven.
He could not deny that his tongue wanted a taste of it to satisfy his craving while his stomach needed it to alleviate his growing hunger.
"Sure, go ahead." Jules casually said as she sat perfectly still before him.
Although she tried hard not to stare, looking everywhere except directly at him. He could still catch her occasionally glancing, but she would quickly look away.
He forked a large chunk of the omelet and took a big piece of the bread before shoving it in his mouth. And surely enough, it was mouthwatering.
"Damn! You made this." He wanted it to sound like a compliment, but it sounded more like a question. "I mean, it is delicious." He quickly added, taking another bite of the simple but delicious dish.
"Is it surprising that I can cook and bake?" Jules coldly asked, raising her right brow at him.
"Well, yes. I guess I never..." He abruptly stopped as he realized his mistake. "...but it doesn't matter. I..." He quickly stopped before saying something worse, seeing she was already pissed.
He quickly reminded himself he wanted to talk to her to clear the air between them, not to worsen it. However, looking at her face, he seemed to be too late.
He already awakened the dragon. Suddenly, his son's words nagged at him, reminding him of how Oliver warned him about not wanting his mother angry.
"You won't like it." Those were his son's words.
"Of course, you never thought a gold digger like me would know hard labor. That someone like me can cook, clean a house, and get her fingers dirty. Right?" She spoke calmly, but he could hear the underlying anger in her tone.
"You always believe that someone like me can only be good at one thing..." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "...sleeping around." She finished with a barely controlled temper.
"Well, you are wrong." She snorted with disgust. "Maybe you should have your facts straightened out. Or maybe hire a better investigator because you have me all wrong."
After her short assertion, she did not give him a chance to respond as she stood up and walked out of the room, leaving him to finish his food alone.
Damn!
He was not expecting that.
But was she right?
Was he wrong about his assumptions about her?
But the reports he received were thorough about her history and all the pertinent details about her life. He could not be wrong about her.
He could only conclude that this might be another one of her acts. And he should not be fooled by her actions. Still, what if he was wrong?
Nevertheless, he was still determined to discuss a few things with her, but he would let the situation cool down before approaching her again.
After locking himself in his office for an hour, hoping to finish some work, he emerged from his room, looking for Philip. With the help's absence, there was no one he could ask of his butler's whereabouts.
He checked the other part of the house but could not find him until he stumbled into the kitchen again, hoping he would be there.
But alas, it was not Philip he found, slaving away in the kitchen.
"Ahem!" He cleared his throat, hoping to make his presence known, but she did not seem to hear him. He repeated it, louder this time. That seemed to do the trick.
"Oh!" She seemed startled to see him as she turned around, holding onto her chest with both hands. "How long have you been standing there?" She gasped, slightly catching her breath.
"I just got in. I am sorry if I might have alarmed you." He surrendered his hand as he apologized. "I was just looking for Philip."
But he did not fail to notice the fresh scent of food cooking in the pot and the oven. Damn! He realized that she genuinely could cook.
"He is in the pool with Thalia and Oliver," Jules told him as she returned to the pot on top of the stove, openly dismissing him from her presence.
He heard her and knew he should be moving to look for Philip, but his feet remained planted on the floor. Weirdly, he could not look away as he watched her move gracefully between the counters, cutting, swirling, and whipping some cream.
"Is there anything else?" She irritatedly asked, probably noticing that he had not left the room.
He guessed this was the only opportunity he would get after he blew his chance this morning. Therefore, he was taking it.
"I guess we have started off on the wrong foot. And I wonder if we can still correct that." Damon had been musing about his action and would like to rectify their situation.
He believed if they had to live together and raise their son side by side, they should, at least, be on the same page.
"Is that your way of apologizing? I suggest you do better." She did not even bother to look at him as she concentrated on busying herself with cooking.
"I guess I deserve that. But honestly, this is the best you will get since I am not used to apologizing." He told her.
He was not being arrogant. He was just rarely wrong about things. And his father taught him never to apologize for doing what he believed was right.
"I bet. But fine." Jules finally agreed, looking like she could not care less about his apology.
But at least her anger seemed to have subsided as she relaxed her stance behind the counter. She looked like she was finally ready to talk again.
"So, what is it that you want to know?" She abruptly tilted her head and stared directly into his eyes.
He finally moved closer to the counter, not wanting to talk across the room from her. And he guessed he wanted to read her reaction to his questions.
"When are you planning to tell me about my son?" He finally asked the first question that had plagued his mind since he learned about the boy.
And he guessed he wanted to know more about the woman he married. What made her tick? What was going through her mind? How did she think?
"I mean to say, do you even intend to mention Oliver to me if the accident did not happen."