“I’m back,” I announce, sounding more depressed than ever. At the same time, I try to ascertain what’s in the oven. Jamie turns towards me, he looks surprised to see me. He still doesn’t seem to understand that this is my apartment and that I have every right to walk into the kitchen at any time?
“Welcome back!” He greets me after a moment of hesitation.
He probably expected to see me later in the evening. Well, I don’t care if I’ve ruined his evening plans – I dread to think what he intended to do in my apartment this time.
“I finished earlier today…” I comment, hoping to get out of him why he’s so mysterious tonight. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by my comment.
“That’s good – can you set the table for me?” He asks with half a smile on his face. I freeze for a moment.
“What?”
“Dinner’s almost ready. Get some plates and forks.” He turns away and opens the oven, ignoring my perplexed expression. My brain struggles to accept his words. Maybe I’m dreaming or maybe Jamie has gone crazy. What’s going on?
“I’m not hungry,” I lie. In the meantime, my tummy is grumbling and my mouth is salivating beyond control. I don’t want to feel in debt to him.
Jamie turns round and looks at me, puzzled.
“What do you mean you’re not hungry?”
“I’m not hungry now, I’ll eat later.” I reply, then I head to the stairs. I want to hide away in my room – hopefully I won’t be able to smell the food from there.
“Don’t you even.” He grabs my arm again, he’s smiling. I glare at him, every second spent in the kitchen is torture right now.
“What do you want?”
“I know what you’re trying to do, Ashley. Don’t even think about it.” He repeats determinedly.
“I don’t get it – I’m just trying to go to my room.”
“Get some food in your stomach, first. If you don’t want to set the table, then that’s fine, I’ll do that. Just take a seat, it will be ready in a few minutes.” He pulls out a stool for me to sit on. I ignore it and I choose to wash my hands in the sink instead. I hate to let him win so easily, but I’m so hungry.
“What do you have in mind?” I ask him ominously.
“Nothing. I just made dinner and I don’t want to throw it in the bin just because you’re too proud to appreciate the fact that I cooked for both of us.” Okay, I don’t have anything to say to that, but he didn’t answer my question.
“I mean, why did you bother cooking for me? Why are you trying to be so kind?”
“I’m always kind!” What goes around comes around, after all. “I’m in a good mood today and you won’t make it change. Will you set the table or not?” His eyes have a strange light in them that I can’t decipher.
“Okay, I’ll set the table.” I surrender. I wonder what made him so positive today. I want to know but I know that he’s not going to tell me, just to keep me on edge. I remain silent and place some napkins on the table, with some cutlery and two glasses.
When Jamie turns round to put the plates on the table, I understand why it smelled so good. He cooked roast beef with dauphinoise potatoes. The dish looks so inviting, and I bet it tastes even better. I know that Jamie isn’t as nice as he wants me to believe, but the food looks too tasty for me to take that into consideration right now.
Jamie sits on the stool next to me and stares at me for a while.
“What?” I ask him, feeling a little uncomfortable. How can I enjoy this dish with him staring at me?
“Nothing,” he answers with a wry smile on his face. His lips… okay, I have to stop this. I turn quickly towards the plate, which certainly deserves my attention more than Jamie.
I try to ignore Jamie at my side and pick up my knife and fork. The meat is so tender that I won’t even need a knife. I didn’t know that Jamie was such a good cook. He has a lot of positive skills, and many negative qualities.
“So why did you decide to cook roast beef?” I ask Jamie. It’s always good to understand him better, if I want to learn how to live with him.
“I told you – I’m feeling good today and I wanted to eat something tasty.”
“Why the beef, though?” I’m sure he’s hiding something. I want the truth! The feeling that he’s hiding something keeps nagging me and I’m worried that I’m not going to like knowing why he’s so happy.
“I know that you like it,” he answers calmly, then he tastes some of his food.
“I know, and that’s exactly my problem – why do you want to make sure that I’m happy, if you want to cook for us both? Are you hiding something?” I ask, alarmed.
“Nothing, I told you already! Do you want to relax now?” He sounds a little annoyed now but he doesn’t want to show it. He’s very good at hiding his emotions behind an apparently impassive face.
“I don’t trust you – did the lawyers tell you something? Do you think you’re going to take the apartment, too? I don’t trust you, Jamie.” The fear that Jamie is plotting something makes me nervous. Maybe he has found a lawyer who is going to be able to find a fault in my father’s will and he’s almost certain that the apartment will be his.
He chuckles – that’s not a good sign.
“I’m not looking to get hold of your apartment, stop being paranoid and enjoy your food.” He sounds genuine. He’s a good actor, though.
“I’m not paranoid!” I grumble, and I jump off my stool. If he thinks it’s that easy to fool me, he’s wrong.
He stares at me with his eyes wide open, he looks surprised and his reaction confuses me for a split second. Maybe I’m wrong? Perhaps I’m just obsessed with seeing him negatively… or maybe… no, that’s impossible! If he doesn’t want to spit out the truth, then I’m going to find out all by myself. I don’t believe that he cooked a meal for me just for the sake of it, why would he do that? I’m pretty sure that he hates me just as much as I hate him.
I won’t let him take away my apartment, it’s the only thing I have after my father died. Without hesitation, I walk out of the kitchen and go upstairs. I’m angry, even if I’m not sure why, I just know that I don’t want to let Jamie break through my defence. I won’t let him, his fake kindness and his plots won’t distract me.
“You’re so stubborn!” Jamie yells from downstairs, he sounds frustrated.
I regret not finishing off the beef, I might not get a chance to eat something as tasty again for a good while.
6
Jamie hasn’t shown up for the rest of the week. He always gets back home before me, but he hasn’t cooked anything for two and has remained in his room. Funnily enough, he has been sulking all week, almost as if I’m in the wrong and should apologise. What should I even apologise for?
In the meantime, I have got in touch with our solicitor to make sure that Jamie wasn’t trying to find a way to get hold of the apartment. The solicitor reassured me that there is no fault to be found in the will and that it will not be possible to get around it other than by fulfilling its prescriptions. He read the will multiple times with the help of some of his co-workers. At least I’m not worried any more.
I don’t care if Jamie is mad at me or not… but now I know that he cooked dinner as a genuinely kind gesture, I feel a little sorry. But I’ll never tell him that, I’m too proud for that.
This morning, although it’s Saturday, I saw him at work in the kitchen – the unmistakable smell of chocolate let me guess that he was working on one of his new delicacies for the company. I say ‘good morning’ to him – just to be polite, nothing else – and he didn’t even turn round to return the greeting. He just muttered something and carried on working, while I was there staring at him like a fool. It seems clear that, unless I apologise to him, he’s not going to make life easy in the apartment – and that’s not what I want. I hardly ever apologise, though, it’s too difficult.
*
“Why do you look so depressed today? Are you alright?” Elly is staring at me, she looks worried.
Maybe I should ask for her opinion about this situation. There’s so much tension in the apartment and it’s unbearable now.
“No, I think I have a problem,” I admit sadly. My friend sits down on one of the chairs behind the counter to listen to me carefully.
“Go on!”
“I might have made a mistake… I think I misunderstood something and…”
“And?” Elly impatiently urges me to carry on.
“I just don’t know how to make up for it now. I know that I should apologise but it’s not me.”
“Is it to do with Jamie?” Her face shows that she has understood everything already and that she’s about to support him as usual. I should have kept that in mind before speaking.
“Yeah, it’s about Jamie. I misunderstood his gesture and I was nasty with him. Now I know that he didn’t have an ulterior motive and he’s sulking all the time because I was mean to him. The atmosphere in the apartment isn’t good at all. He acts like I don’t exist anymore. He didn’t even say ‘hello’ this morning.” I complain like it’s not my fault after all. Why didn’t I just stay in the kitchen to finish off the beef that night?
“Ashley – why on earth do you always have to be so nasty to him?”
“I’m not nasty to him, it was just a little unusual and you know that I struggle to fully trust him.”
“Stop being so diffident and making unnecessary problems for yourself. Buy him a lovely bottle of wine and apologise for that evening.” Elly speaks with vehemence.
Elly’s confidence puts me off a little – it makes me fully realise that I was in the wrong after all. I know that Jamie isn’t exactly a saint, that’s for sure, but perhaps I shouldn’t see him as the only source of trouble in my life. I might have to go and buy a bottle of wine for him – I’ll think about the apology.
*
Elly carried on patronising me for about half an hour before closing.
I’m nearly at home now. I hope Jamie will let me talk to him, I’m not convinced that he will. I went to the wine shop and bought him a bottle of Vin Santo from the 1960s! The shop owner told me that this is one of the finest wines that they sell, and it was quite expensive.
I open the door to my apartment, expecting to find it in darkness – Jamie will certainly be in his room.
The kitchen lights are on, however, and Jamie is fiddling with the hob again – he’s working on god-knows what else. The place is filled with the pleasant smell of milk chocolate. I inhale deeply and gather myself to accomplish this mission. I slam the front door behind me.
“I’m home!” I shout, trying to sound friendly. No response. It’s obvious that this is not going to be easy. I hang up my coat and head to the kitchen. I’m a little worried, I admit.
Jamie is leaning on the counter and working on a bowl filled with chocolate mousse. His face reveals intense concentration, and it actually makes him look cute. His hands are covered in chocolate and, for a moment, I imagine slowly kissing them clean. Okay, I have to get control of the situation.
As expected, he doesn’t lift his eyes up to look at me and greet me, yet I’m certain that he knows I’m in the kitchen. His expression has turned slowly into a sour one and his arms and shoulders look tense. He hates me, there’s no other reason for it. If I wasn’t so mean to him, his attitude to me would be fine. It would be just another reason to avoid him and make sure we give each other enough space. But I can’t deal with the fact that I’m the cause of all this negativity and distress.
I can’t apologise. I often get by without having to acknowledge the fact that I was wrong. I don’t have much experience with saying that I’m sorry, so I decide to just try – he doesn’t even seem to be listening anyway.
“This is for you!” I announce. I put the red wine on the counter in front of him. Jamie lifts up his eyes for a moment – he’s surprised that I have something for him for once. When he sees the wine, his eyes widen with surprise. The wine was a good call, after all. After a moment of silence, he turns his gaze to me. His intense, brown eyes overwhelm me and I don’t understand why.
“Why did you spend so much on a present?” he asks resentfully. He isn’t making any effort to make my task easy.
“I wanted to apologise… for being so mean last night. It was unnecessary.” Why am I so embarrassed? God, it’s so difficult to apologise.
Jamie stops fiddling with the chocolate and straightens up to look at me better. Did I say anything wrong?
“You’re apologising? Are you hiding something?”
“No!” I reply immediately. How can he even think that I’m hiding something from him? It’s been so difficult to say sorry and this is how he appreciates my effort? He doesn’t seem convinced by my answer and keeps staring at me with a frown. I knew that this wasn’t a good idea. I should just carry on with my life and ignore Jamie’s attitude. Anything would be better than how I feel right now.
“Okay, that’s fine. If you don’t want it, I’ll enjoy it.” I mumble to him and I grab the bottle of wine. Immediately, he puts his hand on mine, holding onto the bottle. I feel my heart skip a beat because of that unexpected contact and, for a moment, my eyes lower on his lips once again. That’s only a dream…
“You have to work on your determination, but that’s a good first attempt. I can’t miss a chance to get you drunk again!” Jamie says. Then he somehow pulls the bottle away, still keeping his hand on mine, which is now on the counter. What’s happening? His hand is comfortably warm but it makes me feel so incredibly uncomfortable, and yet at ease at the same time. My eyes are locked on his. I must be sick, there’s no other solution. I can’t get sick now, we have an important event coming up at the book shop and I’m seeing Alex tonight.
“Let’s sit down and enjoy the wine, shall we?” Jamie awakes me from my day dream.
“Yes, sure.” I try my best to sound as detached as possible and I grab a stool. Without thinking, I taste some of the chocolate that’s now on my hand after Jamie has touched it.
“What are you cooking?” I ask. Let’s change topic, I feel vulnerable because I’m unable to control my thoughts and my emotions. If I don’t think about them, they will go away.
“It’s a surprise!” Jamie answers with a strange light in his eyes. “Try these, if you want to help me.” He walks to the fridge and pulls out a carton tray with a handful of heart shaped chocolates. They all look different from one another and I can tell that each of them has a different flavour. Some of them have coconut trimmings, icing, almonds, mint, orange peel and raspberries on top. They all look delicious!
“What are they?” I ask, trying to decide which one I’m going to eat first.
“The chocolates that we are going to sell for Valentine’s Day. Try them, let me know which ones you prefer.”
“I can’t eat them all!”
“Not tonight.” His intense eyes lock on mine again, he’s smiling. The fact that he’s not mad at me any more now gives me a profound sense of peace. I could get used to this feeling. It’s obvious that something’s wrong with me – it’s impossible for me to conceive a positive thought that is associated with Jamie.
I decide not to linger too much on these thoughts, mainly because I’m too afraid of the consequences. I pick the almond chocolate. It looks too perfect to be just a chocolate. It’s a piece of art.
Jamie glances at me, then he pulls the chocolate bowl towards him and mixes the contents a little more. When he does this, his expression turns fully relaxed and calm. I put the chocolate on my tongue and I can’t help but moan when my taste buds feel the intense flavours of chocolate, almonds and spices – an explosion of bitter and sweet. The cream inside the chocolate tastes of almonds, the small chocolate flakes contrast nicely with the gooey heart of the chocolate. This is more than delicious – it’s divine!
I remain immersed in this pool of pleasure for a few seconds, and open my eyes only when the chocolate flavour completely disappears from my mouth. I lift my eyes towards Jamie – he’s still loo
king at me and he looks pleased by my reaction, he has stopping mixing the chocolate mousse.
“It’s… great.” I comment, a little embarrassed. Sometimes it feels like his presence and his eyes staring at me are enough to confuse me and stun me.
“I’m glad you like my new recipe.” He says smiling. Yeah, his recipe is spot on.
“Don’t get too arrogant now – it’s tasty but there’s always room for improvement.” I tease him, I want to avoid being too blatantly nice. I don’t want to contribute towards inflating his ego even more, I couldn’t cope with it.
He doesn’t seem to be offended by my comment and carries on smiling at me. It’s one of those smiles and would make any woman blush – at least I hope so, because it sure has an effect on me. I try ignore the butterflies in my stomach, while I glance at my watch. It’s 8:30 p.m. and I don’t know why I’m so worried about the time. Oh, god, I almost forgot – it’s Saturday and Alex will be here in half an hour! I’m late! I jump off the stool.
“Are you okay?” Jamie asks, he looks worried.
“Yeah, it’s just… late. I have to go and change. Alex will be here at nine!” I tell him quickly, while I try to think about all that I have to do before he arrives.
“Alex?” Jamie sounds a little annoyed.
“Yeah, Alex. We’re going out for dinner tonight.” Where did I put my bag? I look around, it seems to have disappeared. Forget the bag. I dash to the stairs, I have to be really quick, I don’t want Alex to have to wait for me like he used to back in the old days.
“Do you mind opening the front door for me, in case I’m still getting ready when he’s here?” I shout from my room, then I begin to get undressed. I hear Jamie mutter an assent. I’m glad that I chose what I am going to wear last night. Alex didn’t tell me where he wants to go for dinner, so I opted for one of my smartest dresses – just in case. It’s fairly fitted and reveals most of my back. This black dress is suitable for almost every occasion – if we’re not going to a formal restaurant, I can always take off my shrug, which didn’t come as part of the dress but goes with it perfectly. I pull up my tights and then I dash to the bathroom to tidy my hair a little. It looks untameable tonight, I sigh in front of the mirror. Why does my hair have to be so difficult to manage. After a few seconds of fiddling with it, I surrender to the usual bun – the only time my hair looks reasonable is when I don’t actually show most of it. Even then, some locks will remain loose, but I’m only going out with Alex anyway – I don’t think that he cares much about what my hair looks like. The final result isn’t too bad. I don’t have time for make-up – I just quickly apply some eyeliner and a red lipstick. I look at my reflection in the mirror for a few seconds, just to double check that I look reasonable. I could do with a necklace or a bracelet – but, again, he’s just a friend and he won’t mind. I’m about to walk out of my room when… god, I forgot the shoes!
The Inheritance: A feisty, giggle-inducing romance Page 7
