Chapter 156: Chapter 156

Dear Sweetheart Chapter 156 Not The Flesh Rayna felt something was amiss as soon as the words left her lips, so she instinctively turned around.

The man in a wheelchair quickly came into her line of sight. While holding a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand, he regarded her curiously with his brows quirked.

“T-The door...” She attempted to talk her way out of the situation by pointing out that the door was not locked, but her plan was foiled, for the access card was right in her hand. “All right, I unlocked the door myself.”

Curtis chuckled, unfazed by the situation. “Didn’t you say you hired housekeepers for me?” he asked.

“The housekeepers weren’t adequately trained during their time in their company, so I was afraid they wouldn’t be able to take good care of you, Mr. Faymon.” She then brought over the ingredients and the two stalks of roses.

“Oh right, here’s your one million— Blah. I mean, your roses, Mr. Faymon,” said Rayna, correcting herself immediately. “The place we’re staying at is too small, so Jessie asked me to return two of the roses to you.”

“They’re just roses. There’s no need to return them to me.”

Curtis’ nonchalant attitude infuriated Rayna.

These aren’t ordinary roses! They’re money!

Yet, she was not gutsy enough to utter those thoughts aloud nor tell him that the roses were a waste of money. After all, the man was worth hundreds of billion. Thus, Rayna sped toward the kitchen to prepare breakfast, but not before telling the man, “Mr.

Faymon, you shouldn’t drink coffee on an empty stomach. I’ll be making stew for you as breakfast.”

Curtis said nothing in response as his gaze landed on the cup of coffee in his hand, and for the first time in forever, he did just as he was told and set the cup down.

Soon, the metallic smell of blood wafted up his nose. The curious man wheeled himself toward the kitchen to investigate the unpleasant scent.

He could not quite control his expression when he noticed Rayna was dealing with some animal innards.

“What’s that?”

“Pork bung!” the woman responded without turning back, thus missing the change in his expression. “I got it from the market just now, so it’s super fresh. I’ll make it into a stew for you.”

Curtis took a deep breath. “Didn’t I tell you I don’t eat pork?”

“But it’s pork bung, not pig’s flesh,” Rayna retorted. She then brought it to the front of his face. “Does it look like flesh to you?”

“Ms. Garland, this is still a part of a pig,” said the man, his tone laced with disdain. He then moved backward, putting some distance between himself and the pork bung.

At that point, she was utterly infuriated.

Have I lost my mind? Why did I move here to take care of him? He’s way too f*cking picky for his age! Does he have fancy delicacies every day? Why isn’t he sick of them yet?

A loud smack sounded when Rayna tossed the pork bung into the basin. Feeling a surge of courage, she straightened her back and bellowed at him, “It’s up to you whether you want to eat it or not. If you don’t want to, then I’ll order takeout. In that way, I won’t have to waste my time too!”

Curtis gazed up at her, his obsidian eyes boring into hers. At that moment, her courage fled her.

Oh, no! He’s not angry, is he?

Just as she was about to bite the bullet and utter an apology, he spun his wheelchair around and exited the kitchen.

At that, Rayna patted her chest and let out a sigh of relief.

What Curtis needed most at the moment was nutrition, so she made sure to get fresh ingredients from the market. The night before, she even called Linda and asked the latter for nutritious recipes.

Rayna continued prepping the rest of the ingredients she purchased and put them in the fridge once she was done. Upon noticing the water was boiling, she placed the marinated pork innards into the pot, along with some fresh vegetables. She then stirred it and allowed it to cook on the stove.

A moment later, Rayna turned off the gas and garnished the stew. Its mouth-watering aroma permeated the room at once.

She put on some oven mitts and brought the pot over to the dining table. Seeing that Curtis was in midst of reading the papers, she called out to him, “It’s time for breakfast, Mr. Faymon.”

He took his time to get himself to the kitchen. When he finally arrived, he fixed his gaze on the bowl of stew that Rayna had served him and remained unmoving.

Curtis did not enjoy fancy delicacies on a daily basis, but his everyday meals were comprised of exquisite dishes. None of his housekeepers dared to go against his wishes. Rayna was the only one who would make him have food that he disliked time and again.

One time, she made pork patties and lied about them being beef patties. That time around, she straight-up served him pork innards.

Even so, Curtis held it in.

He turned to look at her, noticing she had no qualms about savoring and enjoying the dish, let alone eating it, and at long last, he gave in.

The stew was tasteless at first bite, but when he savored it along with the marinated pork innards, its distinct taste instantly permeated his mouth, spreading to every single one of his tastebuds. The delicious stew warmed up his stomach with each bite.

Curtis raised a brow and commented, “Not bad.”

He had never tried something quite like that before, and it was much more delicious than he expected it to be. Moreover, Rayna was a skilled cook.

A smug grin spread across her face when she heard his praises. “Of course! I practiced—”

Halfway through her sentence, she came to an abrupt halt. Wait, why am I telling him this? What if he thinks I’m trying to garner sympathy? At that thought, she did not utter another word and hung her head as she ate the rest of her stew.

With his curiosity piqued, Curtis queried, “What did you practice?”

“It’s nothing. Dig in, Mr. Faymon. It won’t taste as good when it gets cold.”

The man was sharp to notice the tiny blisters on her middle finger. He grabbed her hand and took a closer look at it. The blisters were swollen, and they appeared to be a result of scalding.

Upon recalling how she was hesitant to speak earlier, he instantly connected the dots and felt his heart clench at the realization.

Did she want to make sure I’d enjoy a good bowl of stew, so she practiced making the dish at home for a long time and accidentally scalded herself in the process?

Curtis’ move caught Rayna off guard, and the heat of his palm sent a blush to her face. Fortunately, the phone rang just in time, rescuing her from the awkward situation.

“I-I’m going to pick up this call, Mr. Faymon.” She pulled her hand away and swiftly got out of her seat.

It was a call from Naomi.

A few of the executives wanted to discuss the sale of some businesses under Faymon Group and also the branch offices. As such, they hoped Rayna would put what she was doing on hold and head over to meet them.

When Rayna heard Naomi’s report, she glanced in the direction of the kitchen.

As of then, Curtis looked lonely and helpless in her eyes, so she did not want him to stay in the mansion all by himself. Moreover, all the ingredients in the fridge would go bad if they did not finish them on the day itself.

Rayna clenched her teeth and said to Naomi, “I’m busy, so I can’t make it to the office. Why don’t we schedule a virtual meeting instead?”

“The executives said it’d be better to meet in person. Some things can’t be discussed over a virtual meeting.”

In other words, they wanted her there no matter what.

Rayna gave it a thought and returned to the kitchen. She then asked Curtis, “Mr. Faymon, a couple of executives are looking for me. Could I ask them to come here for the meeting? If not, I’ll—”

“Sure,” he agreed without hesitation. “There’s a soundproof conference room upstairs.”

“You’re the best, Mr. Faymon!” she exclaimed, visibly touched by his approval.

“You’re overthinking. I was just afraid you might not make it back by lunchtime, and there would be no one to cook for me.”

Instantly, Rayna was bereft of words.

Under Naomi’s lead, the executives arrived at the mansion at ten in the morning.

The mansion was Curtis’ private residence, so apart from Naomi, who frequently drove him around, no one knew of that fact.

The executives even assumed it was Rayna’s residence.

After their arrival, Rayna brought them to the conference room, and following that, the door to the room remained shut for the rest of the morning.

Curtis hardly came out of his bedroom either. Once his call with Theodore ended, he shut his laptop, only to notice it was already half past twelve, yet Rayna had not called him for lunch.

He wheeled himself out of the room, bumping into Naomi, who had just returned.

“Mr. Faymon,” she greeted.

Curtis nodded in acknowledgment. At that moment, the secretary’s hands were filled with bags. “The meeting hasn’t ended yet?”

he asked when he could seem to whiff the scent of food.

“Yes, Ms. Garland has plenty of matters to discuss with the executives, and there are also matters regarding the branch offices,”

responded Naomi. “I was afraid they’d be hungry, so I went out to get some lunch. Would you like to dine with us?”

“No need. You all can go ahead.”