Copy Pastas Novels & Stories

“That’s enough food for a small school.” “A small school doesn’t deal with a mother of the bride who changes her mind about napkin colors twice a day.” I added two trays of heat-and-serve pasta, soup cups, and premium ramen for anyone working late. “Don’t get the super-spicy ramen,” Tess called from across the office. “The last one made Leo see God.” “I didn’t see God,” Leo said. “I saw colors.” I hit checkout. “Delivery will be here in forty minutes.”

Error 404. Was she so hard up for naked adult time that seeing a man’s chest sent her over the edge? And for fuck’s sake, she was having plain pasta and sauce with no meat or vegetables or even cheese. Okay, there was a little bit of cheese. Frozen, grated cheese she’d found in the back of her freezer. The pasta was now a pasta bake after she threw the pasta sauce into the pasta, gave it a stir, and dumped it into a casserole dish before sprinkling it with the aforementioned frozen cheese. But still…it wasn’t exactly a gourmet meal. Jack was going to think she was some sort of…she didn’t even know what.

She had gone to the grocery store with Cora, who helped her buy the ingredients for the dish she had decided to make and had gotten her hands dirty in the process, literally. However, things didn't go exactly as she had imagined. Making potato gnocchi seemed so simple in the recipe, but when she decided to taste a piece, she ended up spitting it out in the trash because the texture was absolutely awful. She considered cooking spaghetti or penne instead, even though it wasn't her original idea, just to salvage the sauce, but after trying it, she threw the wooden spoon into the sink with frustration because it had turned out too salty.

Probably because they're shaped like cylinders instead of rectangles. Pasta. Three kinds. The children get butter pasta. Simple. Perfect. Risotto. Creamy. Rich. Chicken. Fish. Vegetables that don't look like vegetables. Look like art. Sophie orders more prosecco. "We haven't finished these bottles," Morton observes. "We will. The night is young." "It's two-thirty in the afternoon." "Exactly. Young." Scarlett reaches for her glass. Drinks. It's her third glass. Or fourth. I've lost count.

It was thick and hard like an ATM card with some words chiseled on it. It has a six digit number on it, and a logo of a two tulip flower entangled on each other. Serene read the words on top of the ticket. “Casa Roma.” “The Casa Roma was the prestigious hotel freshly built on the Vianca Island. I'm sure you already heard about that island in the east. I stayed there once and they have the best wine ever in the whole continent. It's a good thing they built an official hotel on that place because resort houses was a bit old fashioned for me.” Sydney had gone through the Vianca Island after college graduation. She met few hunks there, but the tourists on the Vianca Island mostly are womanizer.

I smile again and announce my presence, bow standing beside her. “Good evening, Mrs Greta.” She mumbles a good evening to me and turns away. “That looks heavenly. What are you making?” I press on. “Dinner.” I look into the pan and see she's making pasta. My nostrils flare up from the smell of the peppers. “That feels really spicy.” “They are. Mr. Escarrá likes it extra spicy.” She shakes more pepper seeds into the pan. “I'm sorry. I can't handle all that spice. Can I have something else, please?” I move to the fridge but she intercepts me with a frown.

I sent Regina another email asking her to bring more food and coffee for me. What I tasted of the pasta was not to my taste. Yet, the carbonara and Cordon Bleu remain here, and the lasagna that Faye eats on the floor. “Hmm…” I groaned as I got up and picked up her resume. I tore it apart loudly. What I did astounded her. I stopped to clean up the lasagna mess on the floor using her résumé. “Rome?!” her surprised reaction, “why did you do that? Printing is expensive!”

The Beta and my sister caught up to us before we drove off, and since Cage threatened to kick them out of his Mercedes, they were quiet for a change. We went to a Wolftalian-based restaurant. Pasta did not originate from the territory where our pack was based. It was said that the territory it originated from was way far away it'd take five days even by aircraft. It was the same place one of my favorite actors in all of the world was from, Channing Hayton.

"And test this out on Pannera." ***

’ He pulled out a stool and indicated she should sit on it while he prepared and cooked their meal, she looked at him a little apprehensively but then relaxed a little and did as he asked. ‘Let’s get you something to eat, it’ll make you feel a little better. I could whip up a spaghetti bolognese or creamy chicken pasta ..’ Gabriella held up her hand, ‘That all sounds delic