Not One, But Two!

Chapter 197

"Try figuring it out yourself," Cody whispered when he saw that Greg had returned, bringing the conversation to an end.

Abigail didn't press any further, but she was starting to have several thoughts on the matter.

Meanwhile, Greg came back with the ointment, and he began to massage Abigail's swollen ankle while Cody watched in exasperation. When he was done, he asked, "Is that all? Does she really not need antibiotics or something?"

"I'm actually pretty tired," she suddenly muttered to cut him off before he could badger Cody any longer.

When Greg heard this, he quickly scooped her into his arms and murmured, "You're sleeping over at my place, and don't say no."

Cody sputtered at this, and Abigail flushed slightly in embarrassment. Sleeping over at his place? That sounds like an innuendo waiting to happen.

However, Greg couldn't care less about innuendos as he strode out of the office with the same brusque air he had when he first came in. He didn't even bother thanking Cody or sparing him a second glance.

After she was settled into the backseat, Abigail began to feel a hot, tingling sensation around her ankle. The ointment must have seeped through her skin and was working to ease out the sprain.

Then, she kept her eyes on the back of Greg's head as he drove home. There were several times when she wanted to ask him what had happened that day when he went day-drinking with Cody, but the question merely rolled to the tip of her tongue before she swallowed it back down.

While the both of them hadn't spent much time together before this, she still knew him well enough to understand that once his lips were sealed on a matter, nothing was going to pry them open.

Just then, she suddenly thought of something before she asked in a low voice, "Greg, why did you replace the ever-so-capable Troy with the somewhat-haphazard Benjamin?"

She had wanted to ask him about this since the replacement happened, but Greg didn't seem like he was in a good mood then, and she didn't think she had a right to inquire about the Buckley's Group internal affairs. However, after hearing what Cody had said earlier, she began to think that Troy must have found out something about her.

If Greg wouldn't tell her, then the only other person she could ask was Troy—he might actually know something. Of course, that pivoted on whether she could get Greg to tell her of the man's whereabouts.

Greg's eyes darkened when he heard this, and he replied curtly, "He's needed for a job, and I figured it would be good training for him." That was such an official and formal answer that it could only mean he had no intention of telling her more about this.

As such, she decided to change the subject. "I want ravioli for lunch. Can you make them for me?"

Greg froze upon hearing this, and he was so taken aback by her request that his hands nearly slipped on the steering wheel. "You want me to make ravioli for you? I don't know how, though."

"Will you make me the ravioli or not?" Abigail was not going to take no for an answer.

Upon hearing the somewhat girlish tone of her voice, Greg realized that he couldn't bring himself to say no to her. Dare I say no to her?

"Yes, I will!" he promised her swiftly and solemnly, but he was actually chiding himself for being such a pushover.

made would hold up the stuffing, but

smiled in satisfaction after hearing the answer she wanted. Exhaustion washed over

up when we get

her to fall asleep more than she could imagine. That way, he could carry her home immediately, and Hugh

what he was thinking, but because she didn't want to dash his hopes, she kept quiet and closed her

whereupon Greg noticed the unfamiliar BMW that was parked outside Abigail's place. He had never seen the

thought of this, he called the security booth. "A car has trespassed into the neighborhood; throw it out immediately," he ordered with an air of authority that came with

the car, they explained, "Mr. Buckley, the owner of this car is Violet Langley. She's here to

a woman's name,

they did not dawdle in answering Greg. "Yes, sir. She's a surgeon

quickly. He realized there had been a reason why Abigail wasn't in a rush to return home; as it turned out, she had already arranged for somebody

how considerate she was of his feelings by not tending to Hugh's injuries personally, nor did she call him out on his childish behavior and instead went along

it took for someone to know how much their feelings were being cared for, and Abigail's way of going about this matter had shown Greg much respect. With that in mind, he decided that he

Abigail on the bed and tucked the covers over her, he fished out his phone and went downstairs. Then, he went out to the balcony and closed the door behind him, thereafter making a phone call. He kept his voice down as he said, "Help me look into Hugh's forces and

it, Mr. Buckley," Benjamin said on the other line and

ravioli recipes, earnestly looking for instructions on how he was going to make the dough. When he settled on a recipe, he started to doubt if he could pull it off, though the steps

requested this, he shrugged off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and headed

added water to the flour and whipped up the stuffing, both of which gave him a great sense of accomplishment. However, he began to experience failure after following the tutorial on how to fold his ravioli. The first ravioli was

he thought it wouldn't matter as long as it held up the

more exasperated. "What the hell is this stuff? Who invented ravioli? Are they sadists?" he muttered under his breath as he produced one failed ravioli after another with his less-than-skillful fingers, and it was clear to see that he was growing impatient. Cooking is easier than this, he thought sourly as he moved on. When he saw

showed up behind him, but she smirked when she

do it," she

suddenly that Greg turned his head to look at her in shock. When their eyes met, he frowned and demanded, "What are you doing down here? You can't stand for too long, or you'll add more strain to your ankle!

Anyway, bring the dough out and put it on the coffee table in the living room. I'll sit on the couch and guide you on the

the time nor patience to cook, but

was told and carried the dough to the living room after he considered that Abigail's suggestion did not include

he carried her onto the couch

anyway? Why do you like it so much? It's such a waste of time and energy, not to mention it's a

she teased with a smile. After washing her

of perfectly-wrapped ravioli were produced under her nimble fingers, and she worked so fast that it seemed like she was using magic to do

doing this for?" Greg asked

leftover dough as she replied thoughtfully, "I don't know. I guess I've been doing it for as long as I can remember, but I

took a spoonful of stuffing and put it in the center of the ravioli sheet. It looked like a lot of stuffing, so Greg pointed