Hannah’s eyes widened in disbelief. She quickly glanced over her shoulder to make sure the kitchen door was empty before whispering, “Stop talking nonsense!”
Lydia gave a playful nudge to Hannah’s shoulder.
“He’s sent you gifts and stood up for you. You can’t seriously believe a busy CEO like him would do that for no reason.”
As Hannah prepared the ingredients, she paused, looking down.
“I’m attending to Miss Mitchell’s needs, so it’s only natural for Mr. Mitchell to be polite to me. It’s merely courtesy. Don’t go spreading rumors.”
Lydia made a face, ready to argue that it wasn’t just courtesy, but held her tongue upon seeing her friend’s expression.
“I need to use the restroom.” Drying her hands, Lydia said, “I’I1 return shortly to help.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Hannah pulled her hair back into a tie, adding minced garlic and dried red chili pepper to the hot oil in the pan. The spicy garlic scent instantly permeated the kitchen.
She then skillfully added shrimp to the mix and poured in two frothy cans of beer. Only when bubbles started to form did she cover the pan and reduced the heat.
“Need assistance here?”
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Just as Hannah adjusted the flame, Bryson walked in, his shirt sleeves rolled up.
“No, I’m fine,” Hannah replied hastily.
“Lydia will be back to help me soon.”
As Bryson walked past her, a faint mint aroma filled the air. Before she could process it, he had already begun cleaning the dishes in the sink.
“If Lydia isn’t here yet, I can help with the dishes,” he said, his downcast eyes and hair softly illuminated by sunlight streaming through the window, giving him an unusually gentle aura.
Hannah was momentarily speechless until a soft voice disrupted the tranquil atmosphere.
“Bryson, there you are,” Melina announced, lifting her skirt slightly as she stepped into the kitchen.
Regaining her composure, Hannah quickly turned her attention back to the stove. She picked up the spatula, lifted the pan’s lid, and stirred the shrimp.
“Oh, that smells wonderful!” Approaching Hannah, Melina whispered with awe, “Miss Moore, it’s no surprise that Grace is always eager to eat your cooking.”
With a warm smile, Melina continued, “I’ve never managed to pick up the art of cooking. I always rely on Bryson whenever I visit. Miss Moore, I should definitely take cooking lessons from you. Otherwise, my dad will have a few words for me if Bryson has to keep cooking every time I’m here.”
Hannah briefly halted, glancing subtly in Bryson’s direction.
“The credit goes to Gail,” Bryson said. After rinsing the dishes, he dried his hands and adjusted his sleeves. He gave Melina a fleeting Look.
Feigning disappointment, Melina huffed, “Can’t you indulge me a little? You’re always so reserved.”