My Baby’s Daddy novel (Anastasia) novel Chapter 659

Chapter 659

Sophia heaved a sigh in relief when Emily and Arthur finally left the room, but she couldn’t help wondering why the latter was so intent on keeping her here. 

Sighing, she opened up one of the bags only to stop and stare at the contents for a full three seconds. Then, she picked up the black lace negligée from the very top of the pile of clothes. The fabric, or rather the lack thereof, had her stumped. Miss Jennings might as well be naked in this! Who‘s she going to wear this for? Arthur? Does he have a fetish for stuff like this? 

When she proceeded to iron Emily‘s questionable wardrobe, Sophia began to panic, for she became acutely aware of the fact that she had no idea how to operate a clothing iron. Her parents had raised her like a princess all her life, and they had never once let her go near house chores, much less do them. 

However, she was supposedly Arthur‘s maid right now, and she had no choice but to hunker down on these menial household tasks, which were not so much menial to her as they were challenges. 

Downstairs, Arthur looked distracted as he listened to Emily prattle on about the latest details of her undoubtedly jet–setting lifestyle. She stopped talking at some point when she realized that he seemed miles away, then asked dejectedly, “Is my presence here bothering you, Artie?” 

“No, of course not!” He looked at her with narrowed eyes. He knew exactly why Martha had asked Emily to come here. Knowing the old lady, she was most likely playing matchmaker, and this was just her way of setting him up with Emily. 

“Then why do you look like you aren‘t happy to see me?” Emily accused, biting down on her lip. 

“I‘m happy to see you. I was just thinking about something else, that‘s all.” He had only just said this when a loud cry sounded from the second floor. 

“Ow!” 

The next second, Arthur rose from the couch and headed up the stairs with Emily in his wake. When they reached the guest room, they saw Sophia standing by the ironing board holding her hand, and the clothing iron was still hissing away. 

ay 

“What‘s wrong?” Arthur asked urgently. He reached out to grab her hand and immediately saw the red streak burn on her palm. 

“Sorry, I accidentally burned myself earlier. I‘ll be fine,” Sophia said. She had instinctively cried out in alarm when she made contact with the hot iron, but she didn‘t think she would draw the couple upstairs. 

She wanted to pull away from Arthur, but he tightened his grip on her and led her to the bathroom, then turned on the tap to run her red, angry palm under cold water. While doing so, he chided, “You should always pay attention when you‘re ironing!” 

Meanwhile, Emily‘s heart leaped to her throat when she saw this scene. She remembered how much Arthur hated physical contact, but here he was holding the maid‘s hand with an unsettling familiarity. . 

Sophia leaned closer to him and whispered in retort, “It‘s not my fault I‘ve never been made to iron anything!” 

Arthur knew that she had been raised as a young lady of nobility as well, so he did not continue berating her. After turning off the tap water and drying her hand, they walked out of the bathroom together. Then, he glanced at Emily and said, “Have your maids do the ironing, Emily. I’m afraid Sophia‘s a little too clumsy for her own good.” 

“If she‘s so clumsy, why don‘t you just fire her?” Emily assessed Sophia belittingly and added, “We can‘t pay someone who doesn‘t do their job well.” 

Sophia would be lying to say she wasn‘t insulted. Arthur, however, defended her, “It doesn‘t matter. I‘m used to having her around to bring me tea and stuff, so she can stay.” 

Can 

Once again, Sophia was surprised by how determined he was to keep her here. 

“Whatever. I‘m worn out from the flight and the car ride here, so make me a cup of coffee,” she ordered Sophia furiously. “Prove yourself to be useful, why don‘t you?” 

Making coffee was one of the many things Sophia did not know how to do. She usually got her coffee from a local barista or any other cafe. Right now, she tossed Arthur a pleading look, trying to get help. 

When he saw the despair in her wide doe eyes, he repressed the urge to sigh in frustration. She can‘t iron, and she can‘t make coffee. Is there anything she knows how to do other than talk back to someone?