Chapter 60 A Taste of Spice

Chapter 60 A Taste of Spice

Winter in Port Brighton always carried a thin veil of damp cold, and as evening fell, the wind whispered through window frames with a brittle chill.

In Zoey's living room, a pot of fiery red salsa bubbled away on the portable burner, the spicy aroma mingling with the rich scent of sizzling beef. The warmth instantly banished the cold of the winter evening.

"Morris, eat up!" Zoey placed a piece of seasoned steak on a tortilla, dipped it generously in the bubbling salsa, and popped it into her mouth, her eyes lighting up with pleasure. "This salsa is absolutely authentic. My friend from the film crew brought it back from abroad!"

Morris stared at the bright red sauce, his brow slightly furrowed. He had always preferred mild foods; growing up, meals at the Anderson household were famously bland, with even salt used sparingly. Now, watching Emily and Zoey enjoying the spicy feast with enthusiasm, he sat with his fork and knife poised hesitantly over his plate.

"I can make something else for you," Emily noticed his discomfort and was about to head to the kitchen.

She was all too familiar with the feeling of accommodating others. In her previous job, she would smile and eat whatever clients recommended, even if it wasn't to her taste. Seeing Morris's uncertainty in front of the spicy food, she instinctively wanted to cater to his preferences.

"No, this is fine." Morris's voice was softer than usual as he stopped her. "Don't bother. Sit down."

He picked up his utensils, took a deep breath, and placed a piece of steak covered in the fiery salsa into his mouth. The heat exploded on his tongue, making his throat tighten and beads of sweat immediately form on his forehead.

Emily paused, then couldn't help but laugh. "Are you sure you can handle it? Don't force yourself."

"I'm sure," Morris sniffed, his eyes watering from the spice, but he persisted. "I'll get used to it after a few more bites."

He hadn't known Emily liked spicy food before, because she always cooked mild dishes that he preferred. Now that he knew, he wanted to try spicy food too. After all, if they were going to be together in the future, he couldn't expect her to always accommodate his tastes.

Morris's eyebrows were knotted together, his usually detached expression now softened by a layer of moisture in his eyes. He was already overwhelmed by the spiciness, his eyes reddening as sweat trickled down his temple.

Watching him, Emily felt her heart skip a beat, nearly dropping her utensils. She had never seen Morris like this before. He was always impeccably dressed in suits, his tone measured and controlled. But now, red-nosed and breathless from the spice, he seemed oddly vulnerable. Despite his obvious discomfort, there was a stubborn determination in his expression that made Emily's heart flutter.

Her gaze inadvertently lingered on his lips. They were full and moist, flushed a healthy red, like cherries glazed with honey. She caught herself wondering if those lips might taste sweet.

Zoey watched with amusement from the side. She leaned over to Emily and whispered, "Look at Morris. Isn't he adorable?"

Emily snapped back to reality, quickly lowering her head to pretend she was reaching for food, though the tips of her ears burned hot. Her mind kept replaying the image of Morris with his reddened eyes, moist lips, and damp lashes, looking both stubborn and vulnerable – more enticing than the sizzling food before them.

After dinner, the three of them cleared the table together. Morris picked up the pot of salsa, about to pour it down the kitchen sink, but Emily quickly stopped him. "Don't do that! It'll clog the drain."

"How would it clog if all the food is out?" Morris looked at her with confusion. Having never done housework, he was unaware of such details.

Emily set the pot aside and explained patiently, "This salsa has a lot of oil in it. When it cools, the oil solidifies and sticks to the pipes, blocking the drain. You need to wait until it's completely cool, skim off the oil from the top, and then you can pour out the rest."

Zoey's eyes widened in surprise. "I had no idea! Emily, you know so much about these things."

"It's just little things you pick up over time," Emily smiled.

After cleaning the kitchen, the three sat in the living room to watch TV. They turned it on to find Zoey's drama series playing. In it, she played a vindictive supporting character, her gaze sharp and her delivery of lines impressively convincing.

Emily's eyes lit up, and she couldn't help but praise her, "Zoey, you're really good! This character has such complex emotions, and you captured them perfectly."

Zoey blushed, though she still looked somewhat dejected. "But after this show ends, hardly anyone will remember me. You say my acting is good and I'm not bad-looking, so why can't I break through?"

Morris couldn't resist taking a jab at her. "That's just your own assessment. Obviously, the audience disagrees."

"Don't say that," Emily gave Morris a gentle nudge, then turned to comfort Zoey. "Success does take some luck, but it's mostly about perseverance. Every role you play now is building your experience. When the right opportunity comes, you'll be ready to seize it."

In her previous life, Emily had once spent an entire month waiting outside a client's office building every day to secure a contract, despite being rejected countless times. She never gave up, and eventually won the client over.

Persistence was essential for achieving success at work.

Looking at Emily's determined expression, Zoey felt her disappointment gradually fade. "All right, I'll keep at it then!"

"Let's not think about these upsetting things," Emily stood up and walked toward the kitchen. "I made tiramisu today. A little dessert will cheer you up."

"Wonderful!" Zoey immediately perked up and followed Emily to the kitchen.

Emily brought out the tiramisu, filling the living room with the rich aroma of coffee mingled with the sweet scent of cream. Zoey took a spoonful and put it in her mouth. "This is amazing! Emily, your tiramisu is better than any bakery's! Even the Michelin-starred desserts I've had abroad don't compare!"

"Flatterer," Morris gave her a disapproving look, but still picked up his spoon and tasted it.

The first flavor to hit his palate was the slight bitterness of coffee, followed by the sweet richness of cream, and finally the soft, delicate texture of the ladyfingers. The dessert had complex layers and a refined texture. He couldn't help but nod. "It is quite good."

Emily watched Zoey eating the cake with such enthusiasm and infectious enjoyment that it made the dessert look even more delicious.

An idea formed in her mind – if Zoey were to start a food blog or channel, she would likely be quite popular.