"Get out of here," Talbot said in a teasing tone. "I'm used to working my magic alone." He flashed Blair a disarming smile.
"Okay. I'll leave you alone. Call me if you need me," Blair offered.
"Sure."
After leaving the kitchen, Blair returned to her bedroom and began to clean. She straightened the furniture, dusted around the trim, and smoothed out the covers on her bed.
By the time she was done, Wesley still hadn't arrived. She sat on the sofa, watching TV to kill time. After a while, the doorbell rang.
She sprang up from the sofa and made her way to the door. Wesley had just had a shower and looked quite fresh. Blair pouted and complained, "I thought you were going to cook for me."
Casting a casual glance at Talbot, who was busy cooking in the kitchen, Wesley said indifferently, "You get fed either way. What's the difference?"
'I want to taste your cooking. That's the difference, ' Blair thought to herself.
Noticing a dash of disappointment flashing through her eyes, Wesley explained, "I'm so bad I can burn water. Talbot's a top-flight cook. He won first place in a competition last year." What he said was true. Although he knew how to cook, the food he cooked could only be described as edible, far from delicious.
Blair was still recovering from a fever. Talbot had learned how to cook ideal meals for patients and people getting over illnesses. He had done it for his father more than a few times.
That was why Wesley had asked him to cook for Blair.
"Got it," Blair nodded, but her expression showed that she was not convinced. 'He didn't want to cook for me, and even found a lame excuse.'
Wesley could tell that she didn't buy his explanation, but decided not to push the issue. He went to the kitchen to see if he could help Talbot, but the cook drove him out too.
Seeing that Blair was watching TV, Wesley came over and sat next to her, pulling out his phone to play a game.
Within two minutes, his phone started ringing. Blair couldn't help but turn her head to look at him, wondering, 'It's late. I wonder who that is. A coworker or a friend?'
Wesley stood up and walked toward the balcony, phone to his ear. Blair heard him say, "Hi, Megan."
'Megan? Who? Sounds like a girl's name. Is that his girlfriend?
Is she the girl I met at his apartment the other night? Hmmm... I wonder...'
Thinking of this, Blair put on her slippers and ran toward the kitchen to get some answers. In the kitchen, Talbot had already finished prep, and was about to start cooking in earnest.
"Talbot!" Blair said cheerfully.
"Hi, Miss Jing. Dinner's not ready yet." Talbot turned to look at her and saw that she closed the door to the kitchen.
"Don't call me Miss Jing. It's just Blair."
"All right, Blair!" Talbot gave her a shy smile.
"So...um...who's Megan?" Afraid that Wesley would hear her, Blair whispered it in his ear.
"Just a girl. Why do you ask?" Talbot shrugged.
"Nothing. I'm just curious." Blair tried her best to make herself sound indifferent.
While cooking, Talbot answered honestly, "She's a foster kid. Mr. Huo and our chief are her guardians. They've been really nice to her. Almost everyone in the city knows that much. Didn't you?"
"No." Blair shook her head; she knew nothing about the upper-class world.
Wesley said something about Carlos the other day. After she had come back, she had searched for Carlos' information online, but found nothing. It was her classmate who told her who Carlos was.
"She's in high school and pretty cute. Our chief and Mr. Huo adore her."
"Hmm." 'So they're not related. She's in high school. I think I met her, then, ' Blair thought to herself.
'Wesley adores her.' Blair was green with envy.
Talbot picked up a slice of stewed beef and reached out his hand. "Try it. I found this at a delicatessen."
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