“Greetings, everyone. I hope I’m not intruding,” Charles says politely.
The servants can’t help but stare at him. He’s an important and good-looking man, but his humble temperament and refined manners are a sharp contrast to Waylen’s proud demeanor and demanding attitude.
“We were all trying to guess who Grandfather was bringing home,” Leonie says charmingly, “It’s an honor to dine with a doctor with such exceptional skills, Dr. Meyer!”
“You flatter me,” Charles responds. He turns to look at Leilani with concern, “I heard that Mrs. Bamford isn’t well?”
“Isn’t it a little strange to care so much about another man’s wife?” Waylen asks possessively.
He wraps a strand of Leilani’s hair around his finger and glares at Charles with frosty eyes. The doctor is really tempting fate by walking into the Bamford home so brazenly, Waylen thinks.
Francis Bamford rebukes Waylen like a child, “Come on Waylen, where are your manners?”
Francis Bamford’s demeanor has changed from open and friendly to disapproving. He is the patriarch of the Bamford family and the father of their empire. His word is absolute in the household, and Waylen doesn’t dare to contradict him. Waylen leans back in his chair with false carelessness. Though his posture is unthreatening, his expression says otherwise.
Charles doesn’t want to start a war with Waylen so he smiles affably, “Sorry, it’s a professional hazard.”
“Well then,” Francis says, “Let’s eat.”
Charles looks at the pasta on the table, “Mmm, it just so happens that pasta is my favorite,” he says unwittingly.
The words pierce Waylen. He twists Leilani’s hair harder until he’s almost pulling it from her scalp. She almost screams. Waylen continues to pull her hair, but his face is expressionless. No one knows that he’s fantasizing about turning the table over and pouring boiling sauce on Charles’ head.
“Out of nowhere Leilani decided to cook pasta, and then Charles has the nerve to strut into the house and proclaim it his favorite dish,” Waylen thinks, “Is Leilani really cheating on me so blatantly?”
Leilani feels a sudden pain in her shoulder. Waylen is pinching her so hard she wonders if the skin might break.
“We can’t treat Dr. Meyer to something as simple as pasta. He’ll laugh and say we don’t understand how to entertain our guests,” Waylen says.
Waylen squints maliciously at Leilani. He wonders how she’d greet Charles if he wasn’t restraining her, and the thought makes him sick.
“Charles is like family—courtesy doesn’t apply here,” Mr. Bamford says, “Charles, I’ll ask the servants to bring you a plate.”
“I appreciate it, Mr. Bamford.”
Charles smiles to himself. He wants this pasta as if it’s a precious delicacy.
“I’m afraid that’s not a good idea,” Waylen interrupts, “I think Leilani dropped a hair into the sauce while she was cooking.”
Leilani glares at Waylen again. She knows she didn’t drop a hair into the sauce, and she knows Waylen wouldn’t have tasted the pasta so greedily if she had. His possessiveness is absurd, she thinks. It’s not about romance or love. He’s like a child who refuses to let anyone else touch his toys, even though he doesn’t especially like them.
“Forget about it, then,” Francis Bamford says, embarrassed, “I’ll have the cooks prepare pasta for you next time.”
Mr. Bamford gives Waylen an irritated look. He doesn’t understand why his grandson is being so immature. Why is he picking on Charles over some pasta?
“It’s alright, Mr. Bamford. I’m just grateful you invited me to dine here.”
“It’s nothing. You’re welcome if you want to come by every day. Now let’s eat.”
“I feel like I’m honored to stay here too,” Leonie says humbly to humor Mr. and Mrs. Bamford.
The maids bring soups and salads for Mr. and Mrs. Bamford and their guests. The tension in the atmosphere eases.
“I remember you’re 26, the same age as Waylen, right? When will we hear some good news about your personal life?” Florence Bamford gossips, “Are you too choosy to pick a wife?”
A maid begins to fill Charles’ glass with wine, but he signals for her to stop. He has to drive later although Mr. Bamford was kind enough to offer him a ride home with his personal chauffeur. Still, he has to treat Mr. Bamford.
“There’s one girl I’m interested in, but I don’t think the feeling is mutual.”
As he speaks his gaze lingers casually on Leilani.
“Really? She’s not interested in a handsome doctor like yourself?” Florence Bamford asks.
Leonie is intrigued too, “Who is this girl you’re interested in, Dr. Meyer?”
Charles presses his lips together and smiles, indicating that he won’t answer. This makes Leonie even more curious.
“You want to keep it a secret? Come on, Dr. Meyer. I know a lot of the society girls in this city. You can tell me and maybe I can put in a good word for you.”
“I don’t think it works that way,” he says, “It’s humiliating that she rejects me. Please let me keep my remaining dignity.”
Waylen swirls the wine in his glass with frost in his eyes. He lowers his voice, “Why are you so evasive? Are you into a married woman?”
Charles freezes in the middle of sipping his wine and doesn’t know how to answer.
“Nonsense! How could a gentleman like Dr. Meyer be interested in a married woman?” Francis Bamford exclaims, “Anyway Waylen, it’s been three years since you married. Where are my grandchildren?”
“We’re endeavoring every night, aren’t we, Mrs. Bamford?”
Waylen stresses the word “endeavor” to provoke and pain Charles. Charles can’t help but clench the stem of his glass so hard that veins pop out on his long hands.
“Making an effort isn’t enough. I want to see results,” Mr. Bamford looks disappointed and adds, “Maybe later Dr. Meyer can give Leilani a look too.”
“We’ll see,” Charles says, “Let’s finish dining first.”
Everyone at the dinner table harbors their own agenda. Leilani lowers her head and focuses on eating her pasta. It’s not bad, but the spaghetti is a bit underdone. Her illness makes it all taste the same to her, anyway.
Waylen takes several bites and says in a mock whisper, “It’s so tasty.”
His words are clearly intended to irritate someone who wants to taste it but can’t. “How juvenile!” Leilani thinks.
She presses her lips together and remains quiet. She finds Charles’s behavior strange. First, he gets himself invited to eat her pasta and then he says he’s in love with a woman who doesn’t love him back. Maybe the rumor that he’s gay is not entirely true.
The meal quickly descends into an awkward silence, and they finish eating. Charles puts his fork down with regret. He wanted nothing more than to taste Leilani’s pasta, but Waylen’s jealousy got in the way. He feels sudden anxiety; Waylen’s newfound possessiveness is bad news for him. If Waylen is interested in Leilani, it’ll be almost impossible for her to get him to let her go.
“Are you finished, Charles? Shall I call for dessert?” Mr. Bamford asks.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take a look at you first.”
Charles is about to lead him away for treatment, but Francis interrupts him. “Come to the living room and take a look at Leilani first,” he says, “I’d like you to use that traditional Chinese pulse-taking style you’re so good at.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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