She got started on the food and found that the pantry was stuffed with ingredients and supplies, although it looked like the kitchen hadn’t once been used yet. At least thankfully, her mother had passed down her famous cooking skills, so she could whip up a meal with very little effort.
Within an hour, Ivy had baked a batch of fresh cheese rolls and a pot of thick chicken cream soup. Along with a bowl of berries and yogurt that she placed at the center of the dining table, she arranged the rest of the simple yet hearty meal and sat down to wait.
Ivy waited for some time, by herself, wondering if she had made the right decision to make lunch. It wasn’t until one that she heard the front door of the house being banged shut and the crunching sound of Leon’s leather boots as he walked towards the dining room.
Ivy stood up from her chair with a jerk, not sure what she was expecting from him. Leon walked in, with his hat in his hands, and only grunted when he saw her. He looked at the food on the table, and without a word pulled out a chair at the head of the table and sat down to eat.
He hadn’t looked at her since he walked into the room, and yet Ivy could feel her heart beating wildly against her chest. She noticed the way some of his sandy locks fell boyishly over his forehead, how his stubble had grown darker, how his
skin looked tough after working out in the sun all morning.
“Why aren’t you sitting down?” He suddenly looked up at her, with his dark chocolate eyes boring into her.
Ivy sat down on the chair with a thump, watching him tear one of the cheese rolls in half and popping it into his mouth. Leon looked at her again as he chewed.
“Have you found yourself things to do around the house?” He asked, after several moments of silence. Ivy hadn’t even served herself her food yet, she didn’t quite know what to do. She had never been in this sort of environment before, and she was also aware that just his presence was enough to freeze her limbs.
“I was thinking I’ll start by dusting the rooms, then polishing the wood…” She began to say but he interrupted her again.
“I didn’t ask for your schedule, just wanted to know if you have one.” He said, taking quick large spoons of the soup and shoving them into his mouth.
Ivy breathed in deeply, trying to control the building rage in her body. She couldn’t understand what he expected from her, how he wanted her to behave. She felt like she was displeasing him, by not even doing anything.
She looked down at her fingers on her lap as she heard him eating his food quickly. Within just a few minutes, Leon had finished his lunch. Ivy looked up again when she heard the sound of his chair-legs scraping the pine wood floor.
He flicked his hat back on his head and licked his lips.
“You said that you don’t intend on being treated as a salve, and yet you didn’t eat with me.” Leon said, meeting her gaze. There was fire in his chocolate brown sparkling eyes, and Ivy had to muster up all the strength in herself not to look away. She glared back at him, holding her chin up.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to eat with you.” She said, looking up at his towering frame at the end of the table.
“I’ll be gone till seven. Make sure the house is clean and in order. I take my dinner at eight.” He said, and turned around and walked out of the dining room. Ivy remained sitting at the table for a few minutes longer, with her breasts heaving, her nostrils flared in fury. What kind of an employment had she gotten herself into?
Ivy had dusted all the rooms of the house, polished the wooden furniture and then prepared an elaborate dinner for the two of them. She had baked a spicy chicken pie, cooked up a batch of breaded drumsticks and a bowl of steamed vegetables. For dessert, she had prepared some fruit custard. All of the dinner had been laid out on the table by eight. At exactly seven she had heard Leon walk back into the house and then heard his boots as they crunched up the stairs.
At eight she stationed herself behind a chair at the dining table, the food was served and ready to be devoured. Leon wasn’t late to make an appearance.
He looked like he had showered and shaved. He had changed out of his clothes for the day into a pair of fresh jeans and a crisp white cotton shirt, folded to his elbows again. His jaw was smooth and paler than the rest of his face. His hands looked freshly washed, less dusty but still as rugged and rough as before.
He entered the room, pulled out a chair at the head of the table and sat down. Ivy sat down too, and poured herself a glass of water.
“I was afraid you’d be too young for all this.” She heard his deep voice and looked up. He had been watching her as he ate. He was definitely older than her, but not that much older. He looked like he was in his late twenties, still too young to own a ranch as lavish as this.
“But your cooking skills are excellent.” He said and Ivy felt her cheeks flush. A compliment was not what she was expecting from him.
“Thank you. These are all my late mother’s recipes.” She said, trying to suppress a smile. As much as she detested the way he spoke to her, she still couldn’t lie to herself and convince her brain that she didn’t want his body. Leon Cooper was the first man to set her body on fire like this.
“Why did you drop out of college? Your father said you were only there for two years.” He said, after a few moments of silence.
Ivy breathed in deeply, and took a bite of the hot pie.
“Because I wasn’t good at school and felt like I was wasting my time. I wanted to do something with my hands, something practical.” She said, meeting his sparkling eyes.
Leon took a sip of water to wash down the food he had been chewing.
“Getting an education is practical experience. Your father should have never let you drop out of college.” He said and Ivy felt the rage return to her veins. When was, he going to stop pissing her off? Who was he to lecture her?
“I didn’t want to waste my time doing something that I didn’t enjoy.” She said snappily, and looked away from him. She could feel her cheeks growing more bright because of the anger she could feel.