Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Alicia hesitated for a second before following him into the kitchen.
She pulled three tomatoes, three eggs, some green onions, spinach, and a piece of pork from the fridge. “Let’s just make pasta with two sauces,” she suggested. “A meat sauce and a fresh tomato and egg sauce.”
Hearing this, a small smile touched Charles’s lips. Richard used to make those same two sauces for his pasta.
He gave a slight nod. “Sounds good. I’ll prep the vegetables.”
And so, they divided the tasks.
Having read her fair share of romance novels, Alicia found the scene amusing. It reminded her of the clueless billionaire heroes who, when asked to help in the kitchen, would end up making a bigger mess.
She wondered if Charles would be the same. Shaking the thought away, she began to wash the pork.
When she finished and turned around, she saw that Charles had already chopped the green onions and even peeled the tomatoes.
She was a little surprised. Most people didn’t bother peeling tomatoes, either because it was too much work or because they believed the skin was the most nutritious part.
But Richard had always peeled them when he made his tomato sauce. She didn’t care about nutrition; she just hated the skins.
“You peeled the tomatoes?” Alicia asked.
“Yeah, I don’t like the skin,” Charles replied.
Alicia broke into a grin. “Me neither. We have that in common.”
Charles chuckled softly. “It must be fate.”
Alicia was taken aback. ‘Fate?‘ she thought.
She didn’t say anything else and got ready to mince the pork.
“I’ll do that,” Charles said immediately.
Alicia looked at him doubtfully. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Of course,” Charles said with a smile, taking the knife from her.
He expertly sliced the pork into strips, then into small cubes, and began to chop.
He looked surprisingly professional.
‘So much for the bumbling CEO from the novels,‘ Alicia mused. Life, it seemed, wasn’t a romance novel.
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Chapter 62
56 votishaTH
Since the kitchen was open–plan, Kevin could see the whole scene from the couch. He felt completely out of place.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t stay for dinner,‘ he thought.
Kevin got up and walked over. He found them working in a comfortable, synchronized rhythm, one chopping vegetables, the other mincing meat.
For a moment, he didn’t know how to interrupt.
He paced back and forth a couple of times, unable to get a word in. On his third pass, he finally summoned the courage. “Mr. Yates, Alicia.”
No response. They hadn’t heard him.
He was dying of awkwardness.
Finally, after Charles finished with the meat and Alicia was done with the vegetables, he tried again, his voice weak. “Mr. Yates? Alicia? Uh, something just came up. I have to step out, so I won’t be staying for dinner. I’ll come back to pick you up after you’re done.”
“Okay,” Charles agreed before Alicia could even reply.
Kevin practically fled, as if he were making a break for it.
Alicia had thought it would be awkward being alone with Charles, but it wasn’t at all.
After Kevin left, Charles simply picked up where he left off, and Alicia started cooking the sauces.
Soon, both sauces were ready. All that was left was the pasta. Just as Alicia reached for the pot, Charles beat her to it. He grabbed it, filled it with water, and put it on the stove with practiced ease.
Watching his skillful movements, Alicia asked, “Were you a cook in the army?”
Charles paused, then let out a laugh. His tone was affectionate as he said, “No, I’m not nearly good enough for that. Next time, I’ll introduce you to our real cooks. You can have them make you a meal.”
His tender tone felt strange to her. She cleared her throat and mumbled, “I doubt I’ll ever have the chance.”
She carried the finished sauces to the dining table.
When she turned back, she saw him adding cold water to the pot of boiling pasta and froze.
The way he did it… it was exactly like her childhood friend, Charlie.
She could still hear Charlie’s voice in her memory- “You have to add cold water three times while it’s boiling. It makes the pasta softer and tastier. And don’t just dump it in; you have to pour it slowly down the side of the pot.”
‘Could Mr. Yates be Charlie?‘
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Chapter 62
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55 Vouchert
She mentally slapped herself. ‘I must be crazy.‘ ‘Charlie grew up poor. It was just him and his mom, Mrs. Spencer. How could he possibly be connected to the wealthy Yates family?‘
She gave a self–deprecating laugh. ‘No way it’s him. What a ridiculous fantasy.
‘Besides, Charlie probably never wants to see me again.
She had broken the only memento his mother had left him. She remembered how furious he was that day. The next morning, he was gone.
Sometimes she thought the Lawrences were right–she was just an unlikable person. That’s why everyone she cared about always left her.
Richard was gone, and so was Charlie.
A wave of sadness washed over her.
Charles finished draining the pasta and turned to see her standing by the table, head down, wrapped in a thick blanket of sorrow.
A jolt of panic shot through him. He quickly brought the pasta to the table. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice tight with worry. “Did you
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