Chapter 122 A Massage
The two women weren't actually hungry anyway—they'd been snacking on fruit while chatting and seemed not to have heard Matilda's announcement at all.
Matilda said, "The food's ready and on the table. If you get hungry, come eat. I'm not hungry, so I'm heading upstairs to rest. You two enjoy."
Just as she turned to leave, Amelia spoke up. "Stop right there. If you're hosting a guest, where are your manners? Even if you're not hungry, you should sit with your guest while they eat."
Jessica chimed in, "Exactly. I remember my dad teaching me that when you have guests, you can't forget proper etiquette. No matter how uncomfortable you are, you have to keep them company. Didn't anyone in your family teach you that, cousin-in-law?"
Matilda swallowed her irritation. "Nope."
"Oh, I almost forgot—your parents divorced and you've been living alone since you were little, so no one taught you these things. But don't worry, with Auntie here, she'll slowly teach you the rules." The two women walked over while talking.
When they saw the suspiciously similar-looking dishes on the table, Amelia's face turned green. "Matilda, this is bluefin tuna. This type of fish is meant for sashimi. Why did you boil it in a pot? What kind of cooking method is this?"
"Really? I had no idea. Like I said, I grew up alone—no one ever taught me." Matilda smiled sweetly.
Amelia clutched her forehead in frustration.
Jessica stared at the dishes. "Did you cook all four of these in one pot?"
Matilda cheerfully admitted it. "Yep. I'm not a great cook—this is how I usually do it. But it tastes pretty good. Try it."
Jessica curiously tried a piece of meat. The moment it touched her tongue, she spat it out. "This pork reeks!"
She tried one of the black mushrooms next. Couldn't even bite through it. Suddenly she understood. "Matilda, are these black truffles?"
"Black truffles?" Matilda had eaten them before, but when she had, a server had used a shaver to shave them—they were sold by the pound. She'd never seen them this large.
"These are black truffles! Oh my God, how could you stew them? You don't cook this ingredient like this—they're incredibly expensive!"
Matilda looked surprised. Then she glanced at Amelia, whose entire face had turned a shade of green. It wasn't about the money—it was pure rage. Because this meal was clearly half-assed, and Matilda obviously had no clue about premium ingredients.
"Jessica, I'm not feeling well. Help me sit down over there." Amelia pressed her forehead.
Jessica rushed to support her, not forgetting to throw a parting shot at Matilda. "You can't even cook properly. I have no idea what my cousin saw in you."
Matilda wanted to say, Does Wentworth need a chef? But seeing Amelia's condition, she decided there was no point starting a fight. Amelia had asked her to cook specifically to provoke her. Little did she expect that instead of upsetting Matilda, she'd only upset herself. Karma, really.
"Since you can't eat what I made, I'll head back to my room. If you get hungry later, figure something out yourselves."
She turned to leave, but Jessica called after her. "Hold it. You upset Auntie like this and you're just going to walk away without even apologizing?"
Matilda glanced at Amelia slumped on the sofa. "But I came down to cook for you both. If you don't want to eat it, why should I apologize? I don't know what I did wrong."
"Auntie's dizzy right now and you need to take responsibility. You studied medicine, didn't you? Come over here and give her a massage or something."
Matilda smiled and walked over. "Mom, are you sure you want me to give you a massage?"
Amelia glared at Matilda. Massages were tricky—if something went wrong, the consequences could be serious. But Matilda had already come over. It would be a waste not to make her work for it.
"Go ahead. I'm very dizzy right now. Just massage my temples."
"Alright then, Mom. Lean back on the sofa and I'll massage you for a bit." Matilda moved behind Amelia and began gently working her temples.
"Mom, does that feel better?"
"It's alright, I guess." Amelia refused to admit it felt good.
Jessica piped up from the side. "Do you give massages a lot at work? Men, women, old, young—do you have to massage them all?"
"That's right." Matilda sensed there was more behind that question.
Sure enough, Jessica's expression turned contemptuous. "So cheap!"
Matilda couldn't help but smile. "But do you know that massages can actually kill people?"
Jessica asked, "A massage can kill someone?"
"Of course it can!" Matilda sounded completely certain.
Amelia froze, instinctively pushing Matilda's hands away.
"Mom, don't be scared. Would you like me to continue?"
Amelia's face turned cold. "No need. If you want to go back to your room, go ahead. We don't need you here anymore."
"Okay, Mom. If you need anything, just call me anytime."
Relieved, Matilda returned to her room.
Downstairs, Jessica complained, "Auntie, I really don't like this Matilda at all. She's poor, stuck-up, and enjoys scaring people."
Amelia said, "Your mission this time is to make her realize she doesn't fit into this family. If she's smart, she'll leave on her own."
"Making her leave is easy—just embarrass her in front of everyone. I refuse to believe her skin is that thick."
"That's exactly what I was thinking." Jessica moved behind Amelia. "Does your head still hurt, Auntie? Let me rub it for you."
But the moment Jessica's hands touched Amelia's temples, Amelia flinched away.
"Go away. With those long acrylic nails, you're more likely to scratch me than help. Besides, you don't know how to do it properly."