Chapter 1116

Drake didn’t hear any noise downstairs.

“Haven’t Debra and Marion come in?”

“They should have.”

“Then why hasn’t anyone come to report to me?”

“Boss, you said you weren’t going to welcome them.”

Lately, Kale found it hard to figure out what Drake was thinking. One moment he was against something, and the next he was going along with it. The wedding was an example. At first, he said he wasn’t going, but later, he did. Then there was this recent event. He didn’t mean to hurt Marion, but he claimed that it was intentional.

Now, he was doing it again, inviting them over but refusing to welcome them.

“Yeah. I don’t care if they stay or leave,” Drake said, standing up. “I’m hungry. Tell someone to make dinner.”

He came downstairs, but Debra was nowhere to be seen. He glanced at Lara, who was still cleaning. “Have they gone to their rooms?”

“Yes,” Lara faltered, “but they went to the same room.”

Drake frowned. “I told you to prepare two rooms. Why are they sharing?”

“Mrs. Houston said it’s natural for a couple to share a room,” Lara explained.

“It’s fine,” Drake said. “Tell them to come down for dinner.”

Lara hesitated. “Mrs. Houston said they’ve already eaten. Plus, Mr. Houston is injured, so he won’t be coming down for meals anytime soon.”

“Great,” Drake muttered, his appetite vanishing.

Debra had it all figured out, meals included. She was treating his place like a free recovery center.

He stood up. “Bring the food to my room.”

Kale, coming from the kitchen with the meal, was puzzled. “Boss, you’re not eating here?”

“I’ll eat upstairs.”

“Alright.”

A maid wheeled a cart of food into Marion and Debra’s room. Debra eyed the dishes—plentiful but not as fancy as before.

“Is Mr. Lowe running low on cash?” she asked.

The maid was baffled, and Debra explained, “I remember the abalone and sea cucumber used to be endless. Now, there’s no ginseng in the chicken soup, no abalone in the braised pork, and no sea cucumber in the congee.”

The maid stammered, “Well, Mr. Lowe said Mr. Houston shouldn’t have seafood because of his injury.”

“Is that so?” Debra frowned, scooping some congee and feeding it to Marion. “Honey, bear with it. Drake is stingy. Once we’re back in Seamar City, I’ll make sure you get proper nourishment.”

“Okay,” Marion smiled indulgently.

The maid felt like a third wheel, standing there awkwardly.