Chapter 85 Old Spots, Old Wounds
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Anneliese shed Jonathan an OK sign and thought that he wasn’t actually that hard to get along with–at least he wasn’t one of those domineering CEOs who expected everyone to serve
him hand and foot.
She had grown up doing chores, and after returning to the White family, she had honed her cooking skills just to win approval. She had tried to prepare everyone’s favorite dishes, but though her food filled their stomachs, it had never warmed anyone’s heart.
Later, with Zacharias, whose stomach was weak, she had cooked whenever she could- nutritious meals and medicinal broths to nurse him back to health. And yet, all her care had only raised a sc*mbag and a den of wolves.
The thought made her tighten her grip on the spat, and she stirred the pan with fierce
energy.
She worked with practiced ease, and before long, the dishes were ready. She didn’t bother calling Jonathan over; she simply set everything out on the table, removed her apron, and went to find him. She found him in the study, finishing a call.
Knocking lightly on the door, she waited as he turned and gave her a slight nod.
“What I want is a deal closed, not excuses and contingency ns. Show me results, not n B. Or are you telling me you’d rather fall back on one? That’s enough!” He ended the call sharply and walked toward her.
Anneliese rubbed her nose. “Food’s ready. Where’s Mr. Hand? I couldn’t find him.”
“His mother called him home for a blind date.”
Anneliese fell silent, pitying Zion for all of five seconds.
They went together to the dining room. Seeing the table already set, Jonathan nced at her in question.
Anneliese waved her hand. “It was nothing. Didn’t take much effort.”
Since her hands seemed fine, Jonathan said nothing more. He pulled out a chair and sat down, picking up his cutlery. When he noticed Anneliese still standing, he lifted his eyes to her. “What is it?<b>” </b>
“Please, enjoy your meal, Mr. Fullbuster. I won’t join you–I suddenly remembered something urgent,” she said with a faint smile, already retreating toward the door.
Chapter 85 Old Spots, Old Wounds
Jonathan set his cutlery back down on the porcin te with a crisp <i>clink</i>.
(1)
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Even after driving out of the garage, Anneliese could still hear that sound echoing in her ears.
Was he upset? But I hadn’t <ie </i><i>to </i><i>dine </i><i>with </i><i>him </i><i>anyway</i>–<i>only </i><i>to </i><i>repay </i><i>the </i>favor by cooking. The food was ready; it wasn’t <i>as </i><i>though </i><i>I </i><i>had </i><i>stood </i><i>him </i><i>up</i>. <i>Never </i><i>mind</i>. <i>Best </i><i>not </i>to overthink it.
Her thoughts shifted to Zacharias‘ threat. If he truly contacted her grandmother all the way in Baytree, she would never forgive herself. She pressed harder on the elerator.
The “old spot” he mentioned was Hearth & Garden, a private restaurant specializing in Rivend cuisine. The couple who owned it had once been their neighbors back when they lived in a basement apartment.
She remembered one torrential storm in Oceaton. She had been burning with fever. Zacharias had been away courting investors, and rainwater had flooded the basement.
As everyone scrambled to escape, she stumbled outside only to remember he had left behind critical documents. She had gone back into the rising water and copsed. Raven Jensen, their neighbor, had discovered her in time and sent her husband to carry her to the hospital.
When uderias Tech prospered, Zacharias had invested in the couple’s restaurant, but his mother and sister had a problem with that.
To that, Zacharias dered, holding Anneliese in his arms with tender authority, “What’s wrong with investing in the people who saved my wife’s life? Half of my assets belong to Anne. Even if she throws them into the sea, no one has the right to object!”
Sometimes, Anneliese wondered if his past tenderness hadn’t been entirely an act. But if there had been no true feelings at all, maybe it would have hurt less to sever them now.
“Anne, you’re here. Mr. Shaw’s been waiting upstairs,” Raven greeted warmly.
Her Rivend dishes were exquisite, her husband, Marek Gibson, had a head for business, and their restaurant now had three branches. This year, they had even bought a vi, finally rooted
in Oceaton.
Grateful and inspoken, Raven had always cherished Anneliese.
“Raven,” Anneliese nodded with a smile.
Raven pointed upstairs toward the private dining room, her eyes full of admiration and blessing. “Mr. Shaw’s prepared a surprise for you. Hurry on up–I’ll get the kitchen started.”
But Anneliese caught her arm. “Don’t, Raven. I won’t be staying long. Don’t waste the effort.”
Chapter 85 Old Spots, Old Wounds
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She released the stunned woman and went upstairs. Watching her go, Raven couldn’t help frowning. <i>Did </i><i>they </i><i>fight</i><i>? </i>
At a corner of the first floor, Joel was chatting with friends about an investment project. Looking up, he caught sight of Anneliese heading upstairs. Pulling out his phone, he snapped a quick photo and sent it into the Four of a Kind group chat, tagging Jonathan…