James Black only then noticed Jane Sampson was barefoot.
"Donāt come in," James Black quickly spoke to stop Janeās entrance and said with a furrowed brow, "Go put on shoes first."
Jane Sampson looked down at her raised left foot that she had already moved forward, awkwardly wiggled it, and then retracted it. With an "Oh" sound, she turned her head and quickly ran out.
But in the blink of an eye, she had put on her shoes and was clattering back. This time, she rushed directly into the kitchen and then stopped next to James Black, leaning in to look. With an astonished face, she asked, "What did you do to the pot, why is it so black?"
The smell of something burnt filled the room, detectable even with the window open outside.
After asking, Jane Sampson turned her head for a scan and then noticed the trash can next to her, still emitting heat amongst the indiscernible black stuff.
"Whatās in the trash can?" Jane Sampson asked while squatting down to inspect the contents of the trash can. A few seconds later, squatting there, she propped her cheek in her hand and slowly looked up at James Black, her voice trying to suppress a laugh, "Is it overcooked ribs?"
"Whatās the fun in asking when you know already?" James Black tossed the spatula back in the pot, took off the black and white checkered apron he was wearing and hung it back in its place, then went over to the sink to wash his hands.
After drying his hands, he then picked up the woman who was still squatting on the ground, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, and brought her out of the kitchen before letting go of Jane Sampson.
"Iāll have a meal delivered this evening," James Black suddenly said, then glanced at Jane Sampson, noticing she wasnāt in the same set of clothes as when she left earlier and urged her, "You go upstairs and take a bath first, Iāll make the call."
From the moment he started handling the charred spatula to now, when he uttered his last word about making a call, his face had been dark.
So dark that it could compete with the pot in the kitchen that had yet to be cleaned.
"Didnāt you say youād buy groceries and Iād cook tonight?" Jane Sampson asked, puzzled, "Youāve already bought the groceries, so why do you need a meal delivered?"
"You worked all afternoon, arenāt you tired?" James Black raised his eyebrows and thought to himself, the internet says that during a womanās period, she should avoid touching cold water.
That was one of the tips for women during their periods that he stumbled upon that afternoon while browsing through cookbooks.
"Not tired." Jane Sampson shook her head, "I just did my makeup in the afternoon, and I was sitting down; even during the interview that lasted less than an hour, I was sitting."
Having said that, Jane Sampson realized that James Blackās trouble in the kitchen might have been because he was concerned that she would be tired after a full afternoonās work and thus wanted to cook dinner for her?
With this thought, Jane Sampson felt warm and happy inside.
She moved close to James Black, stretched out her hands and wrapped them around his waist, looked up at the man with an inexplicable gaze who was looking down at her, and smiled softly.
"Even though your attempt to cook me dinner ended with nothing but this mess, Iām still very happy," Jane Sampson tiptoed to peck the corner of lips of the still stern-faced man, "Iāll go upstairs and take my bath now, and then come down to cook, so you donāt need to have the meal delivered."
Having said that, Jane Sampson let go of James Black and ran upstairs.
James Black stood there, stunned for a few seconds, then after coming to his senses, the corners of his mouth curled slightly, and he chuckled softly.
After this faint chuckle, the expression on his face also appeared much more pleasant.