"Can you cook?" Jayson thought that daughters of wealthy families couldn't cook, at least none of the people he knew could. He had been skeptical when her resume mentioned she had a certification.
"Of course, why wouldn't I?" Sidney thought he was asking a strange question.
"How did you make this sauce?"
"Garlic, honey, ginger, soy sauce, and a touch of balsamic vinegar, all mixed together in the right proportions."
"What about this soup?"
"First, simmer the chicken and ginger slices in water to make a simple broth. Add a bit of the liquid from the soaked abalone for extra flavor, but wait to add the abalone until just before serving to keep it tender. It's really easy!" Sidney explained with a smile.
"Impossible. There has to be more," Jayson said, looking at her firmly.
"Well… if we're talking about the details, it's like this: the chicken should be blanched first, then allowed to cool down to room temperature before simmering. Is that right?" Sidney asked, making sure she had the steps correct.
Jayson sat there silently, staring at her, making Sidney feel increasingly uncomfortable. She couldn't understand why he was acting so strangely.
"Who taught you to cook this?"
"No one, I figured it out myself." She didn't know what exactly he was trying to find out.
He turned his attention back to his meal, his face serious, and by the end of the meal, they ate in near silence.
He meticulously cleared the table, leaving no scraps behind. Sidney felt a sense of accomplishment, as this meant he had finally acknowledged something she did.
Sidney, in a great mood, pulled the cake she had stored in the fridge earlier. As she sliced it, she looked over at Jayson and said, "I made this this morning! The pears are cooked fresh, and the cream is homemade. Want a slice?"
When she saw Jayson not shaking his head but staring at the cake, Sidney cut a piece and placed it in front of him, then happily started eating herself.
He took a fork, picked up a small bite, and tasted it carefully without saying a word. Sidney watched as his brow furrowed in deep thought, wondering if it really tasted that bad. He took a fork, picked up a small bite, and tasted it carefully without saying a word. Sidney watched as his brow furrowed in deep thought, wondering if it really tasted that bad.
But Jayson put down his fork and, after a moment of hesitation, asked Sidney, "This taste... why is it exactly the same?"
"Exactly the same as what?" Sidney licked the cream from the side of her mouth.
"The taste is the same as something someone else made."
"Oh, oh, oh! You mean that?"
"Which one?" Jayson's sharp gaze shot at her.
"I found a cookbook in your study! These are the proportions from the book you had!"
"What cookbook?" Jayson looked completely unaware of any such book.
"It's in your study! The bottom shelf where your childhood books are kept."
Jayson, still skeptical, went upstairs to check, with Sidney following behind him. She crouched down and pulled out the handmade book with a yellowed cover from the lowest shelf of the bookcase and handed it to Jayson.
He took the book and looked at the cover for a moment before slowly opening it. Sidney couldn't read his emotions as he turned each page until he reached the last seven pages, which had photos of cakes on them. He sighed and kept looking at them.
"These were made by your family, right?"
Jayson seemed not to hear Sidney's question, lost in his own thoughts for a long time.
Sidney didn't disturb him, simply sitting quietly on the nearby sofa.
"Get out." Jayson said, without looking at her, his face turned towards the bookcase, his back to Sidney.
"Okay." She instinctively felt that he was in a bad mood, so she left the study to do her own thing.
After a while, she heard his footsteps heading upstairs, but she didn't see him again. It wasn't until the afternoon when the housekeeper returned that Sidney told her Jayson hadn't gone out and was still upstairs.
The housekeeper said to Sidney, "Since Mr. enjoyed the lunch you made, you might want to ask him what he'd like for dinner so we can prepare it for him."
Sidney had originally thought that with the housekeeper back, cooking was no longer her responsibility, but when she thought about how he had finished all the food and his strange mood after looking at the book, she decided to go upstairs to find him.
Sidney stood at the door of the entertainment room, her hand raised to knock three times. When no answer came, she lingered for a moment, uncertainty flickering across her face. With a soft exhale, she stepped inside. Her gaze fell on Jayson, who stood by the window, the faint glow of the city lights casting shadows on his face. He held a cigar between his fingers, the smoke curling slowly into the air as his eyes remained fixed on the view outside, distant and contemplative.
The entertainment room was dimly lit by a single yellow light. Sidney silently stepped across the carpet and approached Jayson from behind. "Are you okay?"
Jayson didn't turn around or acknowledge her.
"Um... the butler is back. She asked me to come up and ask what you want for dinner tonight?" Sidney rubbed her hands together, then scratched her head.
"Whatever," Jayson said after exhaling a puff of smoke.
Sidney didn't dare to say anything else and was about to turn around, but Jayson suddenly called out to her.
"Stop."
Sidney turned her head to see him walking toward her.
"Tell her to start dinner at six. I'll be going out tonight."
"Okay."
