Cinnamon Toast Ken Mga Nobela at Kwento

he shouted. “No thanks.” “Cereal, banana, apple, ooh, strawberry Pop-Tarts.” “No thank you,” I repeated. “I make a mean toast with butter.” “Is it toast if it doesn’t have butter?” I asked. “Sure. It’s called dry toast then.” “I’m good.”

I vividly remember asking my mom, "Why are they all topped with peanut butter?” My mom would always ask me, "What would you like?" But I couldn't express my preferences. I just knew it wasn't peanut butter. It wasn't until I went to university in Foswood that I encountered cinnamon toasts for the first time. I indulged without restraint, and everyone in my dorm knew I loved cinnamon toasts. At that time, Beatrice would bring cinnamon toasts to me whenever she needed something from me. It turned out that was what I used to love as a kid.

My father doesn’t like bad press or negative issues reflecting on him or the business. “Hey good morning, you look worried about something.” Kenna breezes into the large dining room and heads to the buffet bar at the back of the room where our cooks have made a feast of a breakfast. Everything from smoked salmon, scrambled eggs, poached eggs, bacon, fresh sliced cheeses made in our dairy farm in the country and a whole host of pastries and miniature cakes. Kenna selects some toast, scrambled egg and a couple of slices of the poached salmon, pours herself a cup of coffee and takes a seat next to me at the oval, mahogany dining table.

The cinnamon hit the heat and rose through the air like home. I added apple slices on the side—grilled lightly in butter and dusted with powdered sugar. And a mug of warm milk with a dash of vanilla. For Jayden, I kept it clean. He didn’t like big meals in the morning—just enough to refuel without dragging him down before his work. I buttered a toasted sourdough roll, fried two medium eggs, added a slice of avocado, and sprinkled black pepper over it. Two strips of smoked bacon on the side. Black coffee—strong as fuck, no sugar. And as for me, I always eat with the pack members.

I looked at Claire and her mum and asked them to give me a little more time. "Okay Aiden, listen up. I was in a meeting before you called me and so immediately I tell you this, and as soon as I'm done, I'll hang up. So you can decide to use the triangle toaster or the other one. Okay, plug it in, get two bread slices and spread whatever you want inside it. The butter , peanut and jam are in the refrigerator and you can also decide to put your eggs inside it. Once you place it inside and close it, a green light will come up and once it goes off, your toast is ready. Is that good? But Aiden. I'll call you later tonight." I took in some air and exhaled before I went back to join the ladies.

LILY The next morning, I was up and making breakfast for just Ken and I since Kieran hadn’t returned. It was sort of a blessing for him to not see me in such a state. As we ate, the room remained totally silent that only clatter of cutlery was heard between us. Ken sat across from me with his face unreadable as he ate. The smell of eggs and butter felt heavy in the air, sickly sweet, and every bite I took turned to ash before I could swallow.

Could the world not handle one more? At the office, I went to the pantry to make myself coffee. Just then, my colleague, Jenny Wilkins, walked in looking like she'd just seen a ghost. "Holy crap, I have breaking news! I just sent Mr. Barlow his coffee, and I saw him smiling at his phone!" she exclaimed. "He was actually smiling! Is he even human?" I loved a good spectacle. "He wouldn't be human if he couldn't smile, you mean." I held my coffee, thinking of the scene in the elevator last night. "But I did see him smile at his phone yesterday, too," I added.

“House-made ciders with cinnamon sticks. You’re welcome.” Makayla slipped in beside me, sandwiching me between her and Forrest, who was already mid-bite into a massive grilled cheese that looked more engineering feat than sandwich. He offered us both a thumbs-up with gooey cheese on his chin. “No notes,” he mumbled. “Perfect meal.”

"Nicole, this is Troy Kennedy, managing chairman of The Ken" I've heard of The Ken. They are a luxurious brand that exclusively deal with men fashion. And each of their products could definitely pay off three months worth of my salary. "Nice meeting you, Mr. Kennedy. It's a pleasure to having you in on the Ambience team". He laughs graciously, displaying a perfect of teeth so white and straight I'm pretty sure they have to be veneers. "The first project of the Galaxy's Perfumery and potentially the scent of summer. How could I miss out on being part of that?". I smile politely in return.

I say, rinsing my mouth. “O well, you’ll be fine…. And Jim is definitely going to find out…” she says, tapping my shoulders like she’s trying to reassure me. “Yes, thank you for the reminder” I say sarcastically. I finish up from the bathroom, tying a towel round my body, and head into the kitchen to join Kendra with the preparations. “So, what are we making now?” I ask Kendra. “I checked online for things that could help reduce your nausea, so at least you could stop vomiting, and they said toast, banana, rice and bla bla bla… so right now, I’m making toast for you” she smiles, handing over some slices of toasted bread.