Chapter 1475: Chapter 1475: Are You Willing to Serve?
After the movie, Jasmine Yale still couldn’t bear to leave, leaning on his shoulder, rubbing against the nape of his neck.
Her emotions had improved a bit, but there were still ripples lingering in her heart.
Like lilac flowers in the spring rain, always tinged with a hint of melancholy.
Indecipherable and inextricable.
“Do you still need my company?” Sylvan Cheney rubbed her hair gently.
“You go ahead with your things, I’ll go cook.”
“Cook?”
“I just browsed through a food magazine for a while, tonight, I’ll make something for you to eat. Don’t look down on it if it’s not good, okay?”
“Sure.” Sylvan Cheney didn’t argue.
Leaving the screening room, Sylvan Cheney took Jasmine Yale downstairs.
Jasmine Yale changed into a set of clean clothes and tied her hair with a fresh floral hairband, taking the magazine with her to the kitchen.
The feelings were somewhat still there.
Even she, who didn’t have much to do with Zaiden Santos, felt emotional, she didn’t know how Ann Nolan would react to the news.
Since Zachary Santos didn’t plan to tell Ann Nolan, she wouldn’t either.
In time, she hoped Ann Nolan could be with someone who loved her and raise Little Candy.
The kitchen was stocked with abundant ingredients and condiments; Jasmine Yale consulted the magazine and learned step by step.
Knowing that Sylvan Cheney didn’t like strong flavors and was picky, she made a vegetarian crabmeat dish, Longjing shrimp, stone pot Wo tofu, fresh-juice ribs, and fish head soup.
Jasmine Yale rolled up her sleeves to her elbows, put on an apron, and bustled about the kitchen.
She used to neither know nor love cooking.
But now, together with Sylvan Cheney, she found herself entertaining the idea of cooking soups and dishes for him.
She wanted him to taste what she had personally made, and she also wanted to hear his compliments.
In the kitchen was she, and in the study, him.
The vast Cheney Residence wouldn’t have anyone disturbing them.
Outside the window, the clouds were light and the breeze was gentle, the sunlight warm.
Light poured in through the window, casting intersecting shadows on the floor, creating a peaceful scene.
As the sky grew darker, weary birds returned to their nests.
Jasmine Yale kept busy all afternoon, finally managing to prepare everything she wanted to make.
She tasted it and thought it was alright, but she wasn’t sure whether the picky man would like it or not.
When she brought all the dishes to the table, Sylvan Cheney also came down the stairs.
“What a coincidence, did you smell the aroma?” Jasmine Yale looked at him with a smiling gaze, a gleaming light in her eyes.
The man descended step by step from upstairs, a curve rising at the corner of his lips, his gaze fixed on her.
He glanced at the table with his peripheral vision; it was quite a feast.
“Did you make all this yourself?” Sylvan Cheney approached her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“Yes, try it. I’ve been at it for quite a while, look, I even got a cut on my hand.” Jasmine Yale lifted a finger that had a band-aid on it.
Sylvan Cheney frowned slightly, taking her finger into his hand: “You don’t have to do it next time, just leave it to Butler Santana.”
“Cooking is quite interesting; I’ll cook for you when I’m in the mood, is that okay?” Jasmine Yale looked up at him coquettishly, her eyes as warm and bright as the sun.
“Hmm, let’s eat.”
It was getting late.
Sylvan Cheney hadn’t forgotten about his evening arrangement with Jesse Rowan.
“All these dishes are your favorites,” Jasmine Yale said. “I don’t understand why you’re so picky. I’m not picky at all; I eat anything. Little Chale Cheney takes after you and is also picky. One big, one small, they are quite a handful to deal with.”
“Are you willing to take care of us?” Sylvan Cheney asked slowly as he picked up a piece of shrimp.
Jasmine halted, her cheeks flushing red.