The Maddens were out of Zion City, leaving Maple Cottage in the capable hands of just one owner, Jerome, who was often busy with work and not frequently present. To keep things running smoothly, he had hired a housekeeper.


    Wilma took care of the cleaning and also handled the grocery shopping and


    cooking.


    Lizetta suddenly felt a pang of guilt and said, "We could have just ordered takeout or gone out to a restaurant."


    Jerome chuckled, "I''ve already prepared everything. I was thinking of hosting a formal dinner to invite Mr. Dashiell another day, but since Mr. Dashiell is hungry today, as long as you don''t mind a simple meal, please join us."


    Jerome nced at Remington as he spoke, making his stance clear.


    Remington was the guest here, while he and Lizetta were the family-us.


    Remington''s eyes were cool, "Mr. Madden, it''s an honor to have you cook for us. How could we possibly mind?"


    As he spoke, Remington stepped forward, gently pulling Lizetta under his own umbre. He nced down and said softly, "Liz, Mr. Madden isn''t feeling well, it''s better not to let him get wet. You shouldn''t share an umbre with him."


    With his arm around Lizetta''s shoulder, Remington led the way forward without looking back.


    Lizetta nodded in agreement, finding sense in his words.


    Jerome stood there, watching their retreating figures in silence.


    A tall andposed man, with an aura of cool detachment, yet he bent slightly to amodate the woman beside him, tilting the umbre to fully shield her. Meanwhile, his broad shoulder was exposed, the fabric of his suit darkening as it absorbed the rain.


    Jerome cast one more nce before following them into Maple Cottage, where Remington was greeted by a table set with homely yet inviting dishes.


    The meal was simple, with a bottle of wine thoughtfully included. The vi was quiet, confirming that aside from Jerome, there had been no one else around.


    Remington felt a surge of relief that he had shamelessly tagged along. Otherwise, who knows how Lizetta and Jerome might have spent the evening alone together?


    He was skeptical about the housekeeper''s sudden absence, suspecting it was no mere coincidence.


    With a sly grin, he turned to Jerome and said, "Mr. Madden, you''re too modest. You''ve prepared such an exquisite spread; how could this be considered simple fare? But didn you have an upset stomach from drinking? Why the wine?"


    Jerome stepped forward, addressing Lizetta directly.


    "I''m not drinking. It''s for Liz."


    He pulled out a chair, "Have a seat, I''ll get you some soup."


    Lizetta nodded and was about to step forward when Remington quickly intervened.


    "Mr. Madden has worked hard. He should sit first, and I''ll take care of the rest."


    Remington insisted, maneuvering Jerome into a seat.


    He smoothly pulled out a chair next to Jerome for himself, swiftlydking out a serving of sweet corn soup


    cing it by his side, gesturing for Lizetta to join them.


    His actions were seamless, taking mere seconds, yet perfectly arranging the seating.


    Throughout the meal, Remington


    was generous with his praise of Jerome''s culinary skills, yet he remained vigil?nt ensuring there


    was no extra interaction between


    Jerome and Lizetta.


    By the end of the meal, it was clear both Jerome and Lizetta had lost their appetites.


    Jerome was frustrated, and Lizetta was embarrassed.