And he… accepted me. He understood me and never made me feel ashamed. Instead, I came away almost proud of myself for getting here after what Andy did to me.
I can’t stop thinking about Rupert even as I head downstairs to make dinner. Kellen appears then to help me, and I interrogate him about where he was this afternoon.
“You had Rupert worried,” I say, frowning. “He texted you and you didn’t answer.”
Kellen rubs the back of his head. “I was out with someone. He, erm, found me through a mutual friend.”
“Oh?” I pause the dough I’m pushing around the bowl. “Tell me more.”
Kellen’s pale skin turns bright red, and I giggle at the instant response.
“I am going to have my car detailed,” is all he says. “Cleaned completely before anyone else is allowed to drive it again.”
I cackle like a witch, and Kellen risks a little smirk.
Soon, Rupert joins us, and he flashes Kellen a look as he sits down at the counter.
"Good to see you’re alive and well,Mr. Castle.”
Kellen ducks his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go MIA.”
Rupert waves a hand at him dismissively. “It’s the weekend. You need to get out more. Besides.” He glances at me, and his mouth turns up at the side. “Peony and I had a lovely walk this afternoon.”
“Did you?” Kellen’s lip quirks in my direction. “I’m sure the leaves were beautiful.”
We both agree as we eat at the counter instead of in the dining room. It feels almost like we’re a strange little family.
The following day, I’m in such a good mood that I get a bee in my bonnet to make cookies. Sometimes the best chocolate chip cookie is a simple one baked just right. I have learned little tips and tricks I can use along the way to make them perfect.
On our walk that afternoon, I ask Rupert if he’d like to bake with me. His mane stands up, and his eyes are bright.
“I haven’t had a good chocolate chip cookie in eons,” he says with wonder and awe. “Americans—it’s one of your specialties, I’d say. Next to the peanut butter and jam.”
“How did you end up here?” I ask as we pass under a beech tree shedding yellowed leaves. “In America, I mean.”
“New York City.” He answers without missing a beat. “If you want to do well in business, you go to New York City.”
“You were in business?”
Rupert’s shoulders hunch under his coat. “Yes. After my father died, I inherited some of his wealth. He’d been a smart investor most of his life, and so I had a decent nest egg with which to start.”
“So you came to the States.”
Rupert nods, chewing his lip. “Got involved in the stock market. Worked on my citizenship. Made some… poor financial decisions.”
I remain quiet, hoping that he’ll continue, but I don’t want to push him.
With a sigh, Rupert says, “We should head back, Peony. And make those cookies.”
“All right.” It’s clear that once again, he’s not quite ready to tell me the whole story. So I let the subject drop. “Let’s turn around here, then.”
On our walk back, I wonder what Rupert is hiding that he’s so reluctant to talk about. But I know what it means to have tender secrets, and so I’ll wait until he’s ready to tell me.
When we make it back to the kitchen, I assemble all the ingredients on the countertop. I’ve been letting the butter soften since this morning, anticipating baking later in the day so it should be the perfect consistency. I put on an apron and pass the other one to Rupert.
He looks down at himself, then at the apron, and then helplessly at me.
“I don’t know if I can wear this,” he says uncertainly.
