Chapter 16
Suddenly, the car's headlights came on. The two brothers awkwardly eyed the man in the suit beside the vehicle. Cedric piped up, "Hey dude, sweet ride. Mind if I sit in it?"
William, sharp in his tailored suit, oozed class and business acumen. His expression wasn't disdainful, but his tone was flat as he replied, "Unfortunately, no."
Without waiting for a response, he entered the car and closed the door. Cedric, refusing to give up, slumped against the car window, arguing, "I just want one picture of myself in the car!"
William ignored him, starting the engine, ready to leave. The brothers, however, refused to move. William adjusted his black-rimmed glasses and stated coolly, "Gentlemen, if you know what's best for you, you'll get out of the way."
The brothers reluctantly moved aside, sulking. Cedric immediately changed his tune. "What an uptight asshole. He's probably just a chauffeur driving his boss's car anyway. Who knows, he might even be some rich lady's plaything, like that guy Jocelyn keeps in her home. Maybe he's a chauffeur, too."
His equally scorned brother agreed, "He sure looks the part."
Soon, William caught up to the beat-up car chugging along the road. Ellison got out and changed cars instantly.
Joycelyn hadn't expected her car door to be opened by Ellison's right-hand man. The unexpected gesture caught her off guard. She wanted to disappear, but William remained gallantly by the open door.
Eventually, she got out, head down, believing the company big shots wouldn't remember a small fry like her. Even as she sat in the front passenger seat next to Ellison, she continued to reassure herself.
Arriving home, she found the villa's lights on, with numerous staff moving things into the mansion. Joycelyn retrieved a mask from her bag and put it on.
Ellison unbuckled his seatbelt and looked at her curiously. Frowning, he asked, "Why are you behaving so suspiciously?"
"I just think it's better to keep a low profile," she answered sheepishly, feeling insecure with the bustling workers. Gripping her seatbelt tightly, she refused to move. "You know what, why don't I wait until they clear out before I get out?"
"Suit yourself," Ellison replied nonchalantly, exiting the car and heading for the villa. After speaking with a staff member, the workers sped up, disappearing within minutes.
Joycelyn finally ventured out, breathing a sigh of relief. The difference between her humble abode and the luxurious villa was vast. The only similarity was Joycelyn didn't find the ease and belonging she craved here either.
Like a dedicated employee, she cautiously entered the villa, set down her bag, and opened the refrigerator to prepare dinner. She wanted to repay Ellison's kindness.
Looking through the four kitchen refrigerators, filled to the brim with a variety of neatly labeled ingredients, she considered what to make. It reminded her of a supermarket. She asked Ellison, "Mr. Grant, what kind of food do you like?"
"I'm easy," Ellison replied.
"Great. I'll fix you a three-course meal then. It might take a little while, so you can go ahead and relax. I'll let you know when it's ready," Joycelyn said.
Ellison removed his jacket and tie, laying them casually on the sofa. He removed his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves. Coupled with his pressed pants, he looked like a laid-back intellectual.
He walked to the kitchen sink and saw Joycelyn, apron-clad, taking ingredients from the refrigerators. Her hair was tied up in a bun, revealing her long, smooth neck. She looked like a beautiful and doting wife. For the first time, the large, empty house seemed warm.
Joycelyn turned and saw Ellison standing idly by the sink. He looked cool and nonchalant, but she thought she detected a hint of warmth on his face.
"I'll get cooking soon, it'll be ready in no time," she informed him.
"No need to rush. Take your time," he said.
Joycelyn efficiently prepared the ingredients, her above-average knife skills evident. It was clear she was a seasoned cook.
Ellison watched her graceful movements and felt inclined to ask, "Do you cook a lot?"
"Yep," Joycelyn answered with a smile. Since becoming part of the Mercer family, she'd cooked, cleaned, and done other chores. Octavia, two years younger, was treated like a princess, relegating Joycelyn to the role of servant. Any mistake resulted in verbal abuse from Olivia, her father, and reminders that she was a leech. Even when insulted in front of her mother, her mother was too timid to defend her.
"We can always eat out if you don't want to cook. You don't have to go through all this trouble. I don't want my wife to double as a babysitter. That's not what I want in a partner," Ellison stated. He poured himself a glass of water, drinking half before setting it down.
Joycelyn grinned. "I don't feel like I'm babysitting you at all."
Ellison raised an eyebrow, his intense gaze making her heart beat faster.
"You're a good man, that's why," Joycelyn explained, continuing her work. She finished cleaning and cutting the fish, marinating and wrapping it in parchment for baking.
"Looks like you still see things a little too simply," he replied, watching her hands move. Despite sounding apathetic, his expression had softened.
"Yeah, I'm a simple-minded woman. I believe in tit-for-tat, so I'm nice to whoever's nice to me," Joycelyn answered good-naturedly. Ellison was the first person who had respected her wishes, and she believed treating him well was only right. "I thought we were on the same page about that," Ellison said.
Joycelyn cocked her head. "What do you mean?" she asked, intrigued.
Ellison's deep-set eyes met Joycelyn's bright, curious gaze. He explained matter-of-factly, "The easiest, most effective way to be nice to a man is in the bedroom."