The housemaid offered an apron with a look of concern, but Yasmine glanced at it dismissively and turned away. Her message couldn’t be clearer.

The maid glanced at Boyd, who dismissed her with a nod.

Yasmine was never one for aprons. Wasting a perfectly good dress on her was preferable to her wearing the cumbersome thing that, in her opinion, marred her appearance.

The only reason she was slumming it in the kitchen was for her grandkids.

Yasmine stood surveying the kitchen, a barely perceptible frown creased her forehead. Boyd knew all too well she was clueless about where to start. He moved to the fridge, pulling out vegetables and beef, placing them before her.

“I’m craving a beef stew, if you wouldn’t mind,” he said, effortlessly saving Yasmine from more embarrassment.d2

She raised an eyebrow, inspecting the produce before nodding in agreement. “Why don’t you step out for a bit?”

As she turned on the faucet to wash the vegetables, Boyd stepped in and took over. “I’ll wash these up for you. All chefs have their sous-chefs, after all.”

Yasmine leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching as Boyd meticulously cleaned everything. Then, moving to the cutting board, he began to chop with practiced ease. “This is also part of a sous-chef’s duties,” he explained.

Yasmine let out a derisive snort. “I also know that head chefs can sit in their fancy high chairs, barking orders without lifting a finger. Maybe I should pull up a chair and direct you?” Clearly, she was irritated.

This is exclusive content from Noveldrama.com (Swnovel). Please read it on Noveldrama.com to support the author and the translation team!. Boyd stepped aside, “I still want to taste the chef’s creations.”

Yasmine shot him a dark look and approached the stove. She reached out to turn it on, and a flame shot up, making her jump back. Boyd quickly pulled her away, placed a pan on the burner, and turned the flame down.

Her pride was wounded. “Boyd, it seems you’re not that eager to try my cooking after all.”

Without a word, Boyd grabbed an oven mitt and slipped it onto her hand. “Be careful. I’ll leave you to it.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly before hesitantly exiting the kitchen.

Yasmine looked at the bulky mitt and tightened her lips in disapproval, tossing it aside.

She ran through the cooking steps in her mind, considering the potential grease splatter, and chuckled. Turning, she filled a clean pot with water and poured it into the pan, followed by a bit of oil, then added the veggies and beef. She threw in salt and other seasonings, then covered the pan.

Boyd, eavesdropping from outside, never heard the expected sizzle of sautéing. Out of curiosity, yet mindful of Yasmine’s pride, he sent the maid under the pretense of fetching something to check on her. The maid emerged, barely concealing a smile. “Don’t worry, sir. The lady is fine.”

what is she doing now?”

“She’s making stew.”

had witnessed, was proud of

was puzzled when Yasmine emerged, holding a bowl large enough to rival her face. He

hand on the surface, “It might be a bit mushy. I was worried it wouldn’t cook through, but it’s definitely done. You can eat it without

bowl. Overcooked ingredients would certainly be mushy, and the once vibrant greens would turn a dull

be my little guinea pig?

with a clump. Glancing at Yasmine, who watched him with a feigned gentleness, Boyd took a deep breath and shoved the clump into his mouth. His face contorted instantly. He

“I’ll have pasta for dinner,

“Of course, ma’am.”

turned to Boyd, “How

then nodded, “Not

smiled thinly, sitting opposite him. “If it’s so

special, but maybe a bit too eclectic. Elio and Luna are still young, they might not handle such a robust mix of

a point. I’ll keep that in

Boyd smiled warmly.

“Don’t just sit there, eat. It’ll turn to a blob

on the

her inviting dish, then

thought you said it was delicious. You’ve hardly eaten. It wasn’t quite the cute guinea pig experience, was

but Yasmine, I’m not a fan

as she eyed Boyd. “Really now? I was so focused on making it delicious that I forgot about that. But is it

“I think it’s decent. Why don’t you

detest the taste of mustard, not to mention I can’t stand anything with too much seasoning.” she said, before taking a bite of her pasta. She nodded contentedly after

for the rest, he didn’t even know where to start with his critique. At the very least,

she must have had an idea, otherwise she wouldn’t have had the maid cook a separate bowl just for

it, he couldn’t help but think that this dish was her way of

couple of bites, he couldn’t muster the courage to continue and finally set down his fork. He reached

her meal, wiped her mouth, and glanced at the half-eaten noodles with a slight tug at the

I’ll make breakfast tomorrow. What would

her culinary skills. He had thought with her intelligence, cooking would be a breeze if she put her mind to it. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. He also had forgotten to factor in personal emotions into the

cereal will do,” he said,

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