Chapter 154: The Blender Disaster
By the time they returned to Max and Caroline's apartment, it was already late.
The hallway lights flickered intermittently, as if using the last remnants of their dignity to remind everyone they should have been replaced years ago.
The moment they stepped inside, Caroline kicked off her heels.
She checked the time, then looked at Ethan and Max.
A knowing expression appeared on her face—the universal look of I understand, I approve, and I will be staying out of the way.
"Alright."
She yawned and tossed her purse onto a chair.
"I'm going to get some sleep."
Without waiting for a response, she threw herself onto the pink bed.
Her voice was already becoming drowsy.
"You two... have fun."
The room fell silent for a second.
Ethan and Max exchanged a glance.
Apparently thinking of something, Max tilted her head and called out toward Caroline in a half-serious, half-joking tone.
"You sure you don't want to join us? Three people would probably be more efficient."
Caroline couldn't even be bothered to roll over.
She merely rolled her eyes.
"Thanks for the invitation, but Ethan isn't interested in skinny girls like me."
"Who said you'd be with Ethan?" Max raised an eyebrow.
"Although I suppose you'd do in a pinch."
Ethan instinctively joined in.
"In that case, I'd like to apply for the position of audience member."
Max immediately counterattacked.
"Have you considered changing teams while you're at it?"
"I can recommend some very sexy lace underwear."
"..."
Ethan surrendered instantly.
Some battles simply couldn't be won.
Time passed quickly.
Eventually, everything quieted down.
Ethan fell into a deep sleep.
His breathing became slow and steady as he sank into Max's ridiculously comfortable bed.
Max stared at him for a couple of seconds and muttered under her breath.
"Only thirty minutes."
She clicked her tongue.
"The doctor was certainly efficient tonight."
"And apparently exhausted."
Stretching lazily, she climbed out of bed.
"Alright."
"Time for me to do some actual work."
She walked into the living room and glanced at Caroline, who was completely unconscious to the world.
After a moment's consideration, she decided to let her sleep.
Then she headed into the kitchen, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.
"Come on, cupcakes."
"You're the only thing left tonight that definitely won't disappoint me."
Ethan had no idea how long he'd been asleep.
Suddenly—
CRASH!
A tremendous noise exploded from the living room.
Followed immediately by:
"AAAHHHHHH!!!"
Ethan bolted upright.
Barefoot, he sprinted out of the bedroom.
Caroline was sprawled on the floor.
A blender lay beside her.
Meanwhile, Max stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen.
Covered.
Completely covered.
Milk dripped from her hair.
Down her cheeks.
Across her neck.
Over her shirt.
From head to toe, she looked as though she had been caught in the blast radius of a dairy-based explosion.
Not a single part of her had escaped.
Milk dripped steadily from the hem of her shirt, gathering into little white puddles across the kitchen floor.
It was a disaster.
An absurd, ridiculous disaster.
Yet Max stood perfectly upright.
There was no panic on her face.
No embarrassment.
Only a calm expression that seemed to say:
Well, it happened. Do whatever you want.
From Ethan's perspective, there was even a faint trace of:
Fine. Let the world burn.
For a moment, he genuinely couldn't decide whether he should grab a towel...
...or his phone.
Max glanced sideways at him.
"This is a private dispute between me and dairy products."
She looked down at herself before adding:
"And if you're currently thinking that this scene looks suspiciously similar to what happened in the bedroom earlier..."
She wiped milk from her face.
Unfortunately, that only caused more milk to drip onto the floor.
"Then yes."
"The resemblance is undeniable."
She paused.
"Although the difference in volume is quite significant."
Ethan coughed.
Caroline, meanwhile, had climbed back to her feet, her hair sticking out in every direction.
"Sorry."
She pointed toward the blender.
"I was mixing milk and forgot to put a towel over it."
She looked at the battlefield that used to be their kitchen.
Then she glanced at the blender lying on its side, its fate uncertain.
"You didn't do anything wrong," Max said while wiping herself down.
"Everybody cleans up afterward."
"Who goes into an operation like this already wearing a towel?"
At that point, Ethan finally asked the important question.
"Is anyone hurt?"
"I am," Max immediately said, raising a hand.
"Psychological trauma."
Caroline checked herself quickly.
"I'm fine."
Then she looked at the blender.
"But the blender may not be."
Ethan crouched down beside the machine.
He examined it briefly before pressing the power button.
Nothing happened.
Not even a sound.
He nodded solemnly.
"...It passed peacefully."
Max nodded in return.
"It devoted its entire life to serving poor people."
Ethan fetched a towel and handed it to her before starting to clean the milk off the floor.
Max dried her hair while staring down at her drenched clothes.
"If this were an adult movie," she remarked thoughtfully, "this would be the quiet scene after the climax."
Caroline raised a cautious hand.
"How much does a new blender cost?"
"I looked it up before," Max replied.
"The cheapest decent one is around a hundred and twenty dollars."
"The really nice ones go up to about nine hundred."
Caroline sucked in a sharp breath.
"Is that... normal?"
"We can't even afford the cheapest one?"
"What exactly do you think blenders cost?" Max asked.
"I don't know." Caroline spread her hands helplessly.
"I never paid much attention to price tags before."
"Usually I just pointed at something, acted cute, and someone else paid."
"I had a different strategy," Max replied.
"Point at it."
"Wait for the employee to look away."
"Hide it in your pants."
"Then run."
Ethan opened his mouth—
then wisely closed it again.
He knew Max well enough to understand one thing:
If he simply bought them a new blender, she'd never accept it.
"Come on," Caroline pleaded. "There has to be a blender we can afford."
"There is."
Max nodded.
"A five-dollar spoon."
"That's our budget range."
Caroline sighed heavily.
The kind of sigh people made before making life-altering decisions.
"Fine."
"Then we'll have to use our bakery fund."
She walked over to a shelf and retrieved their savings jar.
After clearing her throat dramatically, she announced:
"Esteemed members of the board of directors—"
"Welcome to the First Official Financial Assessment Meeting of Max's Homemade Cupcake Company."
"Do we really have to do this right now?" Max complained.
"Your opening speech sounds exactly like Han's."
"And that is not a compliment."
By now the milk had mostly stopped dripping.
Carefully stepping around the remaining puddles, she grabbed a change of clothes and headed toward the bathroom.
"Max!" Caroline called after her.
"Ceremony and presentation matter!"
By the time Max finished showering and returned, Ethan had cleaned the kitchen floor.
Caroline had also finished counting every dollar inside the savings jar.
She looked up proudly and announced the result.
"After three months in business, our total profit is..."
"Two thousand seven hundred and twenty-five dollars."
Then she frowned.
"To be honest, I'm a little disappointed."
"Really?" Max looked surprisingly pleased.
"I'm amazed it's that much."
She grinned.
"This is a significantly better outcome than I expected three months ago."