Ilyan bowed in front of her, embracing the role of her butler.
Irene almost chuckled, as she bit back her laughter. Unsure if he was being serious or just kidding around, she grabbed a couple of moments to examine his body language.
"Are you serious?"
"Do I look like I am not?"
She was about to nod but smacked herself mentally and kept quiet. 'You were never this judgemental. What the heck is wrong with you?'
"Let me know if you or your aunt... if any of you two has any food allergies."
"You know what?" She pulled a step backward, raising her head at him. "You honestly are one thoughtful fellow. And yes, I am allergic to peanuts. Melissa has no food allergies."
"Peanuts, hmm, okay," he muttered to himself, adding the information to his database. Crossing his hands behind his back, he stood there with a pleasant smile on his face. "Please place the order, Ma'am. This butler will present you exactly the same dish that you want to eat tonight."
Whether he was capable enough of making dinner or not was another thing but at first, she needed to see if they had anything to make in the first place.
They were running out on the groceries, she remembered. Melissa had taken the responsibility to get everything from the supermarket. Did she bring them? Irene needed to check.
"Give me a minute." She excused herself from him as she moved toward the refrigerator. The sight of tomatoes and capsicum relieved her.
She closed the door and stood in front of their kitchen cabinets. As she opened the lids of the containers one by one, embarrassment began creeping in. It would have been okay any other day but not when they had a guest over! Not being able to feed someone was a sick feeling; Irene hung her head down as she kept the last empty container at its place.
Ilyan watched the lady silently, containing his suspicions and doubts within himself. He let her do what she was doing without a word of interruption.
He purposely shifted his gaze from her and fixed it at the kitchen counter. He had caught the fleeting disturbance on her face. Believing that he should not interfere, he stayed unmoved.
Contemplating how to break it to him, her disappointed self hesitantly walked toward him. "I am sorry." Her voice heavy with utter sadness did not let her eyes meet his.
Muddled, Ilyan turned to her. "For what?"
Irene struggled, not knowing how to even reveal it. 'Sorry, we have nothing at home.' How awful that would sound? She considered speaking it aloud in her mind and to her, it sucked.
"Um… actually..." Her voice trailed off when she just could not utter it. 'Oh damn.' The gloominess on her face was replaced by a small hope of suddenly recalling that they might have something.
"One second," she said with a sheepish smile and dashed to the other corner of the room. As she elevated her head looking at the rack, she beamed. There was a container that she had not checked.
She quickly grabbed the stool they usually kept in the kitchen to reach the stuff high on the shelves. She climbed on to it and rounded her hands around the large container.
Her excited self could not wait until getting down. She opened it right there and as she peeked in, she couldn't be more thankful.
With the container, she got down and placed it on the kitchen counter. "I am sorry but I forgot to bring groceries. Right now, rice is all that we have along with onions, tomatoes, and capsicum."
'Oh, so that was what she was worried about!' Ilyan gave her an assuring smile, telling her that it was more than enough.
She still felt bad but certainly not as awful as she did earlier. She took out onions, tomatoes, and capsicums from the refrigerator, before getting out the spice container. She placed everything that he would need on the counter.
"And now, if you do not mind, please relax outside. I -"
"Why?" She darted a glare at him, not letting him even complete. Why was she supposed to go out? She wanted to be there and watch him. What if he made her kitchen a total mess? Besides, why couldn't she be there?
Ilyan joined his hands in front of her and bowed his head again. "Because, Ma'am, this butler does not want his cooking tricks and recipe to be stolen. So please?"
Irene's jaw dropped. Did he really say that? "What nonsense!"
"Please?"
"Fine. Call me if you need anything." With that, she stormed out of the kitchen leaving behind a chuckling Ilyan.
'Cute reaction.' He cracked a smile before getting himself to his work.
<>
"Seven missed calls!" Irene had just settled on the couch when she was met with Grace's several missed calls. Considering Grace never called her so many times unless it was an emergency was enough for her to panic.
She immediately called back but Grace's phone came busy.
She tried again only to be met with the same response.
Keeping her phone aside, she couldn't help the worry that was clouding her mind.
What must have happened?