CHAPTER 134: THE OWNER

"My kitchen is on fire," Aveline said hastily. "Call the fire department."

Alaric had run out without his mobile. Hearing her, he was about to grab her hand to lead her out of the building first, but paused. He looked up at the sprinkler. No fire alarm had been triggered.

She wasn’t pulling any pranks, was she?

"Why did you scream?" he asked carefully. "What did you see before running out?"

Aveline opened her mouth, then shut it again. "The pan," she said after a beat. "It caught on fire."

His brows furrowed as he took a step toward her. "Is it still burning?"

"I don’t know," she muttered, almost embarrassed. "I didn’t look back. I just ran out."

From the look on her face, he guessed this was her first time cooking. He opened the door, and she grabbed his T-shirt to stop him. Before she could utter a word, she saw that everything inside looked the same.

Alaric glanced at her hand and went inside with her in tow. There was nothing serious, just embarrassment and the lingering scent of scorched butter in the air.

He stood at the kitchen entrance. The fire had died out as the butter burned away. Smoke trailed faintly in the air. Her pan sat tilted, the mangled first attempt at a pancake now resembling a charcoal art piece.

Aveline peeked into the kitchen behind him. "Oh, nothing has happened..."

He glanced at her before stepping inside and turning off the burner. His eyes swept around the mess in the kitchen before settling on Aveline.

Embarrassment crawling up her face, she confessed without meeting his eyes, "I was trying to make pancakes. Clearly, I’m better at floral art than flipping batter."

Alaric’s lips twitched. "You think?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, but she could see him struggling to hold back his laughter.

He picked up the spatula from the floor, set it aside, and opened another window to let in fresh air.

He leaned against the kitchen island, arms crossed, admiring her. Flour still dusted her robe like careless snow. Her cheeks, flushed with embarrassment, only made her look more human, yet ridiculously captivating.

"A strong start for a first attempt," he deadpanned.

"Please, don’t remind me," she groaned, turning to face the wall. "I should’ve just ordered breakfast." She wanted to disappear from his eyes.

"But then I wouldn’t have seen you like this," he said casually, nodding toward her flour-dusted figure.

She gave him a long look. "Are you flirting with a woman who nearly set her apartment on fire?"

He finally let out a hearty laugh. He couldn’t believe she thought the kitchen was actually on fire because of a small flame.

She rolled her eyes and walked away to the living room.

He followed her out of the kitchen and headed towards the main door, while instructing her, "Get ready and come upstairs."

Aveline’s lips formed an O. The upper floor was a penthouse that was occupied. The building manager had told her that the owner lived there. "You..." She didn’t get to finish her question before the door closed behind him.

She got ready for the office, wondering if Alaric thought she was stalking him or had purposefully found an apartment in his building.

But then she was speechless at her own thoughts. When had she started overthinking everything like this?

If he assumed anything of the sort, it wasn’t her problem. Was it?

Yet she looked carefully at her reflection in the mirror to make sure she was presentable before going upstairs.

....

At the penthouse,

She pressed the doorbell and waited. A woman in her fifties, wearing a kitchen apron, opened the door.

’Right, why wasn’t I wearing an apron?’ Aveline thought.

"Ms. Laurent!" the woman greeted, her eyes sparkling with a knowing glint.

Aveline nodded softly, and the woman smiled brightly. "Please, come in."

Aveline stepped inside as the woman continued, "Call me Martha. I’m the housekeeper of the penthouse."

"Hello, Martha," Aveline greeted as her eyes swept around the penthouse.

The penthouse opened into a breathtaking space with double-height ceilings and floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The city stretched endlessly beyond the glass. A sleek black piano stood in the corner, quiet and elegant.

To her left was an open kitchen with a sophisticated dining area. At the heart of it all, a large, plush sofa faced the skyline. It was modern and effortlessly luxurious.

"Please take a seat. Your pancakes will be ready in a minute," Martha said as she slipped into the kitchen.

"Thank you, Martha." Aveline responded politely.

She was walking slowly and instinctively turned toward the stairs when she heard footsteps. Damp hair, white unbuttoned shirt, collarbone glistening against the sunlight. She didn’t bother looking away.

"Sunshine, I heard you asked about the penthouse," Alaric mused as he closed the distance between them.

She had asked the manager. "If only I had known it was yours," she sighed dramatically, shaking her head in resignation.

She didn’t know whether it was good or bad that she had moved so close to him. Because it was tempting, like an invitation to spend more time with him.

He suddenly dipped his head, making her hold her breath. Then he whispered near her ear, "If you had known?" He straightened up as he took her overcoat and bag, setting them on the sofa.

When she breathed again, he smelled delicious. She knew she had wasted time applying blush when heat crawled up her cheeks.

"I would have tricked you into giving me the penthouse," she replied playfully.

"To burn down the penthouse?" he teased with a straight face.

"Hey!" Aveline protested silently, accepting her fate of being teased.

With a pout, she followed him to the dining table and sat down when he pulled out a chair for her. "Did you know I was moving here?" she asked as she poured herself juice while Martha served him coffee.

The roasted and freshly ground coffee smell was mouthwatering, but she was disciplining herself to pick fresh juice over coffee.

"You told me yesterday." He responded and picked up his coffee cup.

She tilted her head. "I did!?" She didn’t remember that.

Alaric paused mid-sip and realized Aveline didn’t recall anything from yesterday. He deliberately set his cup down and narrowed his eyes at her. "Sunshine..."

"Huh?" She hummed, taking a sip of her juice.

"Did you black out yesterday?" he asked seriously.

The subtle smile on her face disappeared at his sudden seriousness. "Why?" She asked hesitantly, "Did I do something?" Whenever she had had blackouts before, nobody ever mentioned anything being wrong.

But with Alaric around? She had her doubts.

’Did I strip him off?’ Her wild thought.

"Are you sure you want me to remind you?" he probed. "It’s more embarrassing than burning down a kitchen."

It took a beat for her to realize he was teasing her. "Stop it." She threw the napkin at his face. "Oh my god, why did I have to get caught?"

He laughed at her embarrassment.

After sulking for a moment, she asked, "What happened yesterday?"

"Nothing dramatic. We talked, we danced, Ezra drove us to the Blackwood residence, and you told us that you had moved to Ivory Towers."

She nodded in relief and continued enjoying the delicious pancakes.

He glanced at her as the night replayed in his mind.

.... Flashback ...

Holding her heels, Aveline had swayed slightly as they reached her apartment door, the effects of the bourbon loosening the guards she had built so carefully.

Alaric was about to step back when she suddenly wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.

He gently patted her head, and then he heard her sob, "Sunshine!?"

"I sat on the floor," she murmured, her voice muffled and trembling. "In front of all of them... just to prove I could recreate my own art."

He froze.

"I wasn’t angry. Just..." her voice cracked, "...humiliated."

Her fingers clutched his shirt. "They said I had stolen it. My own work."

Alaric slowly rubbed her head, ready to soothe her with words, warmth, anything.

But before he could, she pulled back, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. Her glassy but fierce eyes met his.

"It’s all right," she said with surprising clarity. "That’s the path I chose. I’ll walk it. And I’ll get over it."

Then she turned around, unlocked the door, and stepped inside, leaving him speechless in the quiet hallway.

.... End flashback ....

Alaric didn’t tell her any of that. Some things were better left as his memories to remember.

After breakfast, Aveline left first, and Alaric went to get ready.

As soon as she stepped inside Grace and Bloom, her eyes landed on the man sitting on the couch.

Theodore Marston.

"I would like to discuss an event with you, Ms. Laurent," he said, rising to his feet with a slow, knowing smile.