“I’m joking, thanks,” but then he grabbed the chop board from me. I watched as he mixed the cucumber with other vegetables. It was quite embarrassing, really. A guy knew how to cook and I didn’t. Maybe I could ask him to teach me. My thoughts were disturbed as the phone rang.
“I’ll get it.” He was already racing away from the pan to the other room. I shrugged and jumped onto the kitchen bench. I never thought I would be here one day, becoming a wife but feeling so bored. Scratch that. I wasn’t even a housewife. I was basically a house statue, not even doing anything.
Adrian came back with a smile on his face and I raised an eyebrow.
"What?" I asked, feeling hungry. I could practically feel my stomach growling. I watched as he turned off the stove and smiled at me. I raised an eyebrow again. Wasn't he going to finish cooking that?
"Come on," he said, grabbing my hand none too gently and pulling me up the stairs.
"Eh, Adrian?" I asked in confusion. I nearly tripped over my feet as I went up. I could see clothes littered everywhere, courtesy of Adrian. And since Ma was apparently visiting her grandchildren, there was no one to clean it up. I tried but gave up after picking up his tenth shirt and not knowing what to do with it.
Living with Adrian was like living with a child.
"Pack," ordered Adrian, shoving me into the master bedroom.
"Why?"
"We're going to France."
"What?"
"Oh, and bring Darius's phone as well, will you?"
CHAPTER TWENTYNINE
"What are you doing?"
I ignored the voice and took a deep breath, muttering into the pillow. Why did the pillow have to smell so bad? Why couldn't it have a musky aftershave smell or a –? Wait, no, I mean like a sunflower smell or something. Do sunflowers even have a smell?
"Ivory," the call of my name was followed by a jab on my waist. It was annoying, because it only made the belt in the plane dig into my waist. Damn it, why couldn't we just take a normal plane?
I had nearly freaked when Adrian dragged me to the outside of the airport and passed the runway. I honestly thought for a moment I was going to die by getting run over by some humongous plane and no one would know because I would look like an ant from the window.
And sure, I was expecting Darius to own a private jet. Hell, my father owned one, too, but that didn't mean I had been on one since my fourteenth birthday. No. In fact, I like to keep myself very far away from these aircrafts.
"Ivory." Another jab followed and I lifted my hand and waved it to say I would get to him later. But I think I imagined the movement rather than do it. I could finally feel the plane reach a steady altitude, which made me open my eyes to stare at the dark navy blue pillow that had one streak of gold across it, creating a decent look.
"Aluminium!"
"Ow!" I rubbed my waist as I sat up straight, glaring into the eyes that were staring at me. "What?" I snapped.
"Oh, now you reply. I have been trying to talk to you for the last half an hour and you kept trying to sleep!"
I rolled my eyes as Adrian huffed. He crossed his arms across his chest from the seat opposite mine and leaned back.
"If you couldn't see, I was waiting till the plane came to a steady stop, thank you very much."
"Steady stop, thank you very much," mocked Adrian in a high pitched voice, making faces at me which only made me sigh and lean back, closing my eyes. Why on earth is he so childish? I thought he had his own business or something, how can someone like that run something?
Which only reminded me not to judge. Look where I was. Graduated with flying colours, wanted to get a degree in Medicine to only help people, and then shattered the dream. I shuddered, just thinking about it. And I let other things blame the reason I dropped out. Now that was childish of me.
Screw that, it was already done. What about cooking? I tried taking that up in Uni as a part time course, learned how to make pasta, and then dropped out, not liking being bossed around by some pretentious chef. And I remember every week I would learn a new dish and try to prepare it only for James to say it lacked this or that or whatever when I made some for him
Oh, don't even think about that. Alright, let's say I wasn't made for cooking. What about sport? Oh god, Ivory, how long has it been since you picked up a hockey stick or kicked a footy? Too long that the walk across the runway made me sweat. Pathetic.
Staying at home. Is this what I had become? Some spoiled girl who would whine? So I don't care what Adrian thinks Darius would say. I am getting a job. I cannot just stay home all my life. I swear my IQ level had dropped the past few months and spending more time with Adrian would only make it drop some more.
"Million for your thoughts?"
My eyes shot open as I stared at Adrian, who was staring at me curiously.
"Isn't it ‘a penny for your thoughts’?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Inflation prices," he retorted haughtily, taking a sip of his glass which looked like it probably had alcohol in it. Where did he get that? I could use a glass right now to calm the elephants in there. I hated flying. But then again I got drunk faster than a fifteen-year-old. Not that they should be drinking in the first place.