Hollup Let Him Cook Novels & Stories

Pumpkin soup, steamed vegetables, dumplings, a cake, some milk, and some fruits sat on plates and dishes on the table. Leitia wiped her hands on her apron, welcoming them. She was holding a spoon. With a smile, she said, "These are all prepared according to the menu that Mr. Gabelman provided. You can make a list of things you'd like to eat and give it to me." Holly looked at the food on the table and smiled. "This is good. They're all my favorite foods." Leitia beamed. Holly sat down. Bryce took a spoonful of the soup and brought it to her lips.

“Take my things inside, Hilda. And make some noodle soup for me. Extra spicy.” Arnold was perched on his bed, socks on his feet and a blanket thrown over his naked body. I stood at the doorway and he looked at me as though I had just returned from shopping for groceries at the supermarket nearby. If I had thought that leaving him would make him more ambitious, I was wrong. “Still a couch potato,” I said, leaning against the door frame. He returned his eyes to the TV. “Glad to see you too, Kylie,” he said.

"Hopeldon is under development right now. I believe western Hopeldon will become a better environment for all to live in." Hannah didn't have any complaints about the place she grew up in. The smile on her beautiful face was still present as she asked, "You must be a professor from a university, right? Are you here with your students on a research trip?" "We're here to look around," Oliver responded. After he ate the final empanada, he grabbed a paper bowl from a nearby stack on the stall and handed it over to Hannah. "Please serve me some soup." The moment Oliver had some potato soup, he could feel the soup's warmth melting the chills away. He shook his head forlornly.

Guller, who was not only thoughtful but also easy on the eyes. Cole was in the kitchen, his phone in one hand as he scrolled through a bunch of recipes. Helma had been all fuzzy-headed earlier and had mumbled something about craving Greenville's famous ramen noodles. None of the housemaids knew their way around that dish, so Cole rolled up his sleeves to whip it up himself. This was a first for him—Cole had never been the chef type. He poured oil into the pan and cranked up the heat. After a quick glance at the recipe, he tossed in the onions, and—yikes!—oil splattered everywhere!

“Okay guys,” Holls shouts as they reenter the living room, making me jump away from him. My eyes dart all over the place. I can’t believe I just said that. The three words that I should have kept hidden deep inside my heart, forever and ever. My face heats up and I end up facing the wall, away from him. Oh god. What have I done?? “We brought juice and cookies, because what is a meeting without one?” Holls sing songs as she drops the tray on the table, Stephen has his hands full of bags of chips and stuff.

I said to Hace with wide eyes, when Hillary answered. "I think, there's a lot of food in the kitchen since your maid just went to grocery. You can just ask your cook to cook for you.” I just looked at her, her eyebrows raised. I looked back at Hace and he was silent, as if his eyes were saying 'you can do it'. I raised an eyebrow at him, he tried to remove his hand from Hillary's grasp. But the latter was stubborn, now it's two hands the one holding.

Suck it up, Gloria, this is the gig. She slipped in, spotting him in the living room: fresh gray sweatpants slung low, black tee clinging to his ripped chest, damp hair tousled from a shower. iPad in hand, all serious work mode. "Cooking lunch?" Lukas asked, eyes glued to the screen. "Y-yeah, got the ingredients prepped.” Gloria mumbled, bracing for his bite. A sly grin curled his lips. "Need help? I can cook too." Tension Cranks Up

I knead the dough as Hazel stood on a small stool, mixing eggs in a bowl. Hazel won't stop chattering, boasting of how she's gonna be a better cook than me when she's all grown up. I sigh and let her chatter, I can do nothing to stop her.

I won’t bring up that extravagant nonsense again, okay? I apologized sincerely. Sure enough, when I returned that evening, food was laid out on the table once more. Although they were all simple, homemade dishes, I enjoyed the meal more than any other I had ever had. That weekend, as I was lounging on the couch scrolling through my phone, the doorbell rang. I looked through the peephole and saw my colleague, Whitley Brennan. What brought her here?

“You have to wait and see. I make the best omelets in this part of the world.” Amanza teasingly says. “Who are you, Chef Boy ar dee?” "Nope, Chef Holland at your service." “I guess I'll be your Guinea pig under these circumstances. Because I'm sure hungry.” Holland pinches her cheek. “Now, I need you to do two plates, jam,m, and juice. Oh, grab some utensils?” “Yes, sir!” Amanza winks, letting down her inhibition as she finds herself flirting.