EFB Chapter 260 - - 260
Chapter 260 - - 260
Chapter - 260
The man moved to the Range Rover, unlocking it with a faint beep. He opened the driver’s door, leaned inside, and appeared to be fiddling with something under the dashboard. His hands moved with precision as he worked, occasionally pulling out small tools from his box.
After a few minutes, he stepped out and walked around to the engine bay. With a soft click, he popped the hood and began tinkering inside. His actions were deliberate but swift, as though he had done this many times before.
Rick’s father stood nearby, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes darted between the house and the car, a sheen of sweat visible on his forehead. He muttered something to the man, who responded with a quick nod and a brief reassurance.
Finally, the man closed the hood with a soft thud and returned to Rick’s father. They exchanged a few more words—Rick’s father’s body language still tense but slowly easing as the man spoke. Whatever he said seemed to calm Rick’s father, who gave a reluctant nod.
With a final glance toward Rick’s father, he drove away, disappearing down the street.
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Rick’s father exhaled sharply, running a hand through his thinning hair as he stood there for a moment, collecting himself. He quickly made his way back into the house, carefully placing the Range Rover keys back where he had found them. Satisfied, he straightened up and wiped his hands on his trousers, his expression now calm but tinged with anticipation.
Everything was in place.
----
Rick emerged from the bathroom; a towel draped over his shoulders as he vigorously dried his damp hair. As he stepped into the hallway, the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen drew his attention. Jemimah, no doubt, was at her usual place, bustling around as she did every morning. Rick adjusted the towel around his neck and began heading toward the kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee and toast wafting through the air.
Before he could get far, his father appeared, stepping into his path with a practiced ease. "Rick," he said, his tone light but with an edge of urgency that immediately caught Rick’s attention. "Hold up a second."
Rick paused, tilting his head slightly. "What’s up?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied his father’s face.
His father gave a tight-lipped smile, a flicker of unease crossing his expression before he masked it with a casual air. "I need you to get ready. We’re heading out to the supermarket," he said.
Rick glanced at his father, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise at the sudden shift in conversation. "Girlfriends? Why? Planning to give me some fatherly advice?"
His father smirked, a hint of amusement in his expression. "Just curious. I mean, I remember Olivia. What’s going on there? You two seemed close."
Rick’s lips pressed into a thin line before he replied, keeping his tone measured. "We’re not really clear on that yet," he said, brushing the subject aside.
His father nodded; his face carefully neutral. "Fair enough. Relationships can be complicated," he remarked, his tone almost reflective.
There was a brief silence before his father spoke again, this time with a hint of curiosity. "And what about Jemimah?" he asked, his voice casual, though his eyes darted toward Rick, studying his reaction.
Rick shrugged, his tone light but guarded. "She’s... nice to me. Seems like a sweet girl."
His father chuckled softly; his laugh almost wistful. "Nice, huh? I have to say, watching you two earlier... it felt like there was something there. You know, between you two."
Rick glanced at him, searching for some sign of jealousy or anger, but to his surprise, his father’s face remained calm, almost apologetic. It was a strange look; one Rick hadn’t seen often.
"What if there was something?" Rick asked, his voice careful as he tested the waters.
To Rick’s further surprise, his father didn’t lash out or show any signs of rage. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, a faint smile playing on his lips. "If there was," he said, "well... let’s just say Jemimah’s a different kind of girl. Not exactly your type."
Rick frowned slightly, sensing an undercurrent to his father’s words. "What do you mean by that?"
His father chuckled again, this time with a touch of condescension. "She’s sweet, sure, but she’s... reserved. Grounded. Doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who’d fit into your... well, your world. You know, with your streak of trouble and all. I mean, come on, Rick, you’re like oil, and she’s water."
There was a pause, his father’s smirk deepening as he added, "You shouldn’t mix.", and then he got silent.
The words were framed like a joke, but Rick could sense the subtle taunt beneath them. He realized, with growing amusement, that his father wasn’t angry or jealous. Instead, there was a strange air of certainty about him, as though he believed the obstacle stood between him and Jemimah, Rick, was already resolved in his favour. Rick wondered what was the reason of this surety.