Mara had been unwavering in her pursuit of him, so naturally she wasnât about to let her friend harbor any untoward thoughts about Balfour.
Balfour simply nodded, not wanting to be rude during their first encounter. He extended his hand for a brief, polite shake before quickly letting go.
But Olivia couldnât help but let out a soft gasp of excitement, barely containing her thrill.
Mara caught that and frowned slightly. Olivia, catching Maraâs eye, just pursed her lips dismissively.
Balfour, with Ivy, started preparing some snacks. With guests at home, it would be unthinkable not to rustle up some hospitality.
Once they were out of sight, Mara pulled Olivia aside. âWhatâs your game here?â she demanded.
âWhat do you mean, âgameâ? Iâm not playing any games,â Olivia replied innocently.
Mara scoffed with contempt, âWeâve known each other for years, so do you really think canât see through you? That little act was clearly an attempt to seduce Balfour.â
Her voice wasnât quiet, and even though Balfourâs house was spacious, there was always a chance they could overhear from the kitchen Oliviaâs cheeks flushed with indignation, âHow can you speak to me like that? Just because Iâm your friend doesnât give you the right to accuse me! And donât forget why you brought me here today.â
Maraâs expression darkened, âOf course I havenât forgotten, but donât you forget your place either. We had an agreement that you wouldnât make a move on my man.â
With that, Mara left Olivia and joined Balfour and Ivy in the kitchen, while Olivia rolled her eyes dramatically.
She thought to herself, âGreat, I come over to help out of the goodness of my heart, and I get a lecture.â
But Balfour was indeed captivating. Despite the scolding, she didnât regret reaching out her hand.
âBalfour, need any help?â Mara asked, putting on her most innocent and endearing face as she addressed him.
Ivy listened quietly to the conversation, finding Maraâs sudden sweetness somewhat amusing.
âNo, thanks. You and your friend are guests. Just make yourselves comfortable in the living room,â
Balfour replied.
Before arriving that day, Mara could never have pictured Balfour in the kitchen. It was a surprise to find out heâd cook for someone. He was a neat freak who detested greasiness, but cooking inevitably involved dealing with oil. To keep Ivyâs hands clean and dry, he had only asked her to rinse some lettuce leaves.
Watching the seemingly unfair division of labor between them, Mara couldnât help but feel a hint of jealousy. Her remarks were laced with a tinge of sourness, âIvy, dear, why donât you give your husband a hand? Why just stand there while Balfour does all the work? Even if you are married, you go a bit far by bossing him around.â
Ivy turned around with a serene smile, âHe likes to do these things for me. My role is just to keep him company. If you donât believe me, ask your friend Balfour.â
Ivy had always been too easygoing in the past, which only encouraged Mara to push her around. But now, as Balfourâs rightfully wedded wife, she had no intention of playing the pushover any longer.
Ivy rarely spoke so candidly. Balfour shot her a quick glance before smiling, âActually, I wanted her to do even less, but she insisted on being with me and helping out, so she ended up washing the veggies.
Why donât you head back to the living room? The kitchen is full of cooking smells, and I know how much you hate that.â
Maraâs face soured. There was a time when Balfour would always take her side no matter what. But at some point, he just no longer did.