Chapter 26:

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Kellan glanced at Allison and remarked, “You know, this outfit suits you a lot better.”

In truth, Allison wore the most casual, nondescript clothes that day, but something about her effortless style appealed to Kellan far more than the floral dress she’d donned last time.

There was an air of freedom, an unrestrained energy about her that he hadn’t noticed before.

“Thanks,” Allison replied with polite indifference.

“I can’t say the same about your previous wardrobe, though.” Kellan paused, his lips curling slightly as if some distant memory amused him. “It reminded me of something my grandmother would wear!”

Allison was momentarily at a loss for words at that.

Kellan’s reputation as a sharp-tongued critic was well-earned.

His bluntness knew no bounds, and yet, somehow, he had survived all these years without someone knocking his teeth out — a small miracle that spoke to either his luck or sheer strength.

While most people cowered under his brutal honesty, Allison wasn’t fazed. She wasn’t exactly a delicate flower herself. Despite his acerbic comments, there was something refreshingly straightforward about their banter.

It felt oddly comfortable, as though the pretenses she had to maintain around the Stevens family evaporated in his presence.

Looking at him now, Allison suddenly recalled their first encounter two years ago. At the time, the Stevens family was sinking fast, and she had sought Kellan’s help, desperate to salvage the family business.

Let your mind wander with gⱯlnσν𝒆𝓁s﹒𝓬𝓸𝗺

She had waited for hours—four or five cups of coffee down—before Kellan’s assistant finally wheeled him into the room.

“What perfume are you wearing?” he asked before she could even open her mouth or touch the thick stack of documents in front of her.

It was her own creation, a perfume she’d made herself. Not wanting to reveal that fact, she had casually replied, “Just something I picked up. I can’t even remember the name. Do you like it?”

Kellan didn’t answer her question. Instead, he had immediately cut to the chase. “I can help the Stevens Group secure a sales channel and deal with those people.” He barely noticed her hesitation before moving on.

Kellan glanced up at her, only focusing on the documents his assistant handed him. “Just leave the rest of the perfume with me.”

Kellan was unlike anyone she had ever met — his eccentricity was unparalleled. Without hesitation, Allison had fished out the remaining half-bottle from her bag and placed it on his desk. True to his word, Kellan had pulled strings and helped the Stevens Group weather their storm.

For one bottle of perfume, he had moved mountains. The rumors about him being unconventional were, if anything, understated.

Now, two years had passed since that strange but fortuitous meeting. As a perfumer, Allison found it gratifying to have her scent appreciated, especially by someone as peculiar as Kellan. There was no bitterness when she saw him again.

Since Kellan had praised her work, she thought she could return the favor.

Allison crouched down naturally, reaching out to pet the lazy ginger cat lying nearby. The feline rolled over immediately, exposing its belly in a shameless plea for affection.

But when her eyes drifted to the pottery Kellan had been working on, whatever praise she’d planned evaporated on the spot.

The lump of clay before her resembled a vase — if one were feeling generous — but between its crooked shape and the lopsided lip, it looked more like an abstract art project!

Allison hesitated, searching for words, but couldn’t muster even a disingenuous compliment. “Don’t say a thing. I know,” Kellan muttered, a rare hint of defeat in his voice.

Allison chuckled, relieved that he at least possessed some self-awareness.

The awkwardness in the air was cut short when Emanuel strolled in, holding up a freshly caught fish with pride. “Finally, you’re here! I just pulled this out of the water today. It’s perfect for lunch. Wait until you try my cooking.”

“Sounds great!” Allison said. She’d missed the fish from this town — the flavor was fresh, rich, and best of all, the fish here had fewer bones.

However, Emanuel’s cheerful expression soured the moment he spotted Kellan. “But he’s not invited.” His disdain only deepened as his gaze fell upon Kellan’s botched pottery attempt. The sight of the misshapen vase stirred a pang of pity in him, not for Kellan, but for the wasted clay.

“You should starve! You’ve been squatting here for days. Don’t you know when it’s time to leave?”

Unfazed, Kellan replied, “I paid ten times the normal rate. I’m not just renting for the week, and according to the rules, it’s not time for me to go yet.”

His cool tone clashed with the furrow in his brow as he struggled to fix the lopsided vase. “This isn’t just about money! It’s about the fact you’re wasting precious materials!”

Emanuel’s frustration was palpable. Ceramics was more than just a craft to him; it was a labor of love. Each piece he made was like a child, and having to witness someone botch a creation was unbearable.

“I’ve told you before! You don’t have the talent for this. You’ve ruined more pieces than I can count, wrecked three wheels, and driven the kiln fire to the edge of sanity. It’s time you gave up!”

Kellan met his eyes with a quiet defiance. “I like it. When is your teacher coming?”

Emanuel threw his hands up in exasperation, pointing toward Allison. “You mean my skills aren’t good enough to teach you? Well, my teacher is right here!”

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