Divas Can Cook Book 소설 & 이야기

"I can see where Darius gets his good taste." "Please, call me Mary," she replied politely, but I could hear the strain in her voice. "Vivienne's been learning to cook," Cathy announced. "She wants to be able to make home-cooked meals while she's going through treatment. Isn't that sweet?" "I've been practicing on Darius and Luna," Vivienne said with a shy smile. "They've been so patient." My fork clattered against my plate. "You've been cooking for my family?"

“But you have to teach me. I can’t cook. Sorry.” “Hey,” Doris said, smacking her. “It be fun. I teach you how to cook everything.” “Thanks.” “Don’t thank me.” She shook her head and said, “Okay, thank me. I teach you to cook for him. With food, you unlock the secret.” “What secret?” “How to tame man,” Doris replied. Camilla laughed. This topic reminded her too much of their talk about woman power. She hadn’t needed to use those. Her and Alek had come to some decent agreement.

Mason asked, feeling a bit excited. "Do you want daddy to?" Davis asked and Mason nodded, even Madison nodded too. Stella frowned and stood akimbo, she wanted to talk but she just rolled her eyes instead. "You want me to cook, fine then I'll cook" he smiled and went to the busy kitchen. "All of you leave" he ordered the cooks and without disobeying him they left. Davis took an apron and tied on his waist before taking pasta to boil. Stella was behind him watching and she was surprised to see his well he was cooking especially when he was cutting the meat and the veggies.

But for the first time in a long time, the choices I was making felt entirely my own. I stepped into the gleaming, modern kitchen, and the sight that greeted me brought a possessive smirk to my lips. Davina stood at the stove, a spatula in hand, flipping eggs. She hadn't heard me enter, her attention focused on the pan. But it wasn't just the domestic scene that struck me. It was what she was wearing.

She added yogurt parfaits with layers of fresh fruit and crunchy granola, and poured us rich, dark coffee. I sat at one of the polished wooden tables, eyeing the dish she placed in front of me. “You’ve got a gift, Emily. My wife used to make eggs like these, but she always insisted she couldn’t compete with French chefs. I told her to write a cookbook. She never did.” “Do you have any of her recipes?” Emily asked gently, sitting across from me. “I’d love to try making one of them for you someday.” I was struck by the sincerity in her voice. She wasn’t humoring me. “I believe I do. Somewhere in the house. Maybe tucked into one of her old journals.”

"Why do you need money again? You don't earn much and you still have to spend so much money? How are we going to improve our lives? You can forget about getting any money from me. If you need money then go earn some yourself!" I thought that she was doing this to control our spending, so I would never lose my temper. Instead, I would work even harder to earn money. I bought her a house in Imperium and a slick sports car, and I even hired two servants to help her out with the house chores. I thought we would live happily ever after, but I didn't expect her to tell me to go on a divorce variety show a month ago. She said it was for me to gain publicity, so I went along.

I swear to God I will set this house on fire. Reply: I’ll be there now. A moment later, the door swung open. Damian walked in, arms crossed. “What now?” “Damian,” I hissed. “You were married to Arianna. I mean to me. You’re my husband right?” “Yes?” “Did you ever learn her—I mean my—me. Oh shit my recipes?” “What are you talking about?” “I CAN’T COOK.” He blinked. “What?” “I. CAN’T. COOK. Not today. Not ever. I don’t know who taught Arianna to be a renowned cook but I’m Ashley. I make microwave noodles and burn them.”

"Exactly. Not nearly as thoughtful as Dillon. You've been married this long and still haven't given me a grandson. Is something wrong with him? "If you ask me, just divorce him. Dillon's young and full of energy. Much better for you!" Listening to them echo each other, I almost laughed. No kids all these years—was that really my fault? Jayda was the one who kept saying her career came first. She's the one who kept postponing it. Yet when her mom went after me, Jayda didn't defend me. She just said lightly, "Mom, it's not that simple." And when her mom suggested divorce, she didn't reject it.

I really didn’t expect things to begin so quickly, but we stopped at a truck stop on the way home for breakfast and Diva was already turning me on. “Did you see that?” Diva said as the waitress walked away from our table. “See what?” I asked. “That waitress wasn’t wearing a bra.” She explained, “When she bent over the table I could see all the way down her blouse.” “Diva!” I said, “What are you doing looking down her blouse?” “I don’t know.” Diva said “I guess I like the way other girls look. Don’t you think she’s sexy.” I tried to resist the urge, but turned my head to look at the waitress anyway.

She smiled with an impressed look on her face and I nodded. Initially, I planned that if I checked the available food items in the house, I’d call my Mom and ask her for tips because she was a great cook. But now that Mrs Gale was here, I was too embarrassed to do so. So much for wanting to throw a little feast without having the slightest idea of meals to prepare. I sighed. Seems like Mrs Gale noticed my hesitation because she walked to a cupboard and brought out a book. It looked old but yet fancy. “In case you are indecisive about what to cook, this cookbook will help you. It belonged to Zander’s mother. She wrote it herself. She left it in the hope of giving it to Zander’s bride someday,