CHAPTER 60

CHAPTER 60
Mila

“Since when do I care about what you want?”
I froze at his words. Of course he doesn’t care… why did I even expect otherwise?

“Eat up,” he said, returning to his seat as if nothing had happened. I stared at the plate in front of me, the sight almost offensive. Did he honestly think I was some kind of animal?

Reluctantly, I picked up the fork and took a bite. I braced myself for a foul taste, but the meat was unexpectedly sweet and tender. I forced myself to suppress the small flicker of pleasure that danced across my tongue.
I glanced at him and frowned, making sure my displeasure was clear.

“You’re enjoying it,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“That’s good,” he added, as if that explained everything.

Later, I carefully checked the ingredients and noted them down. The group project was in two days, and some of the top chefs in the country would be judging our cooking.

My assigned group members couldn’t have cared less about the project, so I knew the entire workload would fall on me. I just needed to pass Prof. Rowan’s course—whatever it took.

“I checked all the potatoes, ma’am. They’re all fresh,” Emily said, her smile sweet and reassuring.

“What’s the kitchen planning to cook tonight?” I asked, suddenly itching to get started.
“I’ll ask, ma’am,” Emily said, starting to leave.
“Wait,” I called, “just tell them I’ll do the cooking.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Huh?”
“Wipe that shock off your face,” I chuckled. “I’m a culinary student...I won’t poison anyone.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, nodding and walking off.
I returned to my list, scanning the ingredients again. The school usually provided ingredients for students, but during my first year, someone had sabotaged mine. Since then, the administrator had allowed me to source my own ingredients, which had always been a blessing in disguise.

“Mila!!!”
Olivia’s voice pierced the air before I could turn, and the next moment she had me in a bone-crushing hug.

“Olivia,” I chuckled, trying to twist free.
She spun me around and planted an exaggerated, overly sweet kiss on my cheek. “How was your honeymoon?” she asked in that sing-song voice that never failed to make me roll my eyes.

“I told you over the phone,” I feigned annoyance.
“It was okay.”
“Well, I don’t want okay,” she squealed, dragging me onto the couch. “I want the full gist.”

“I met a Jade,” I said carefully, studying her expression.
“Oh… Jade,” she said with a knowing chuckle. “We both planned it,” she added, mischief glinting in her eyes.

I sighed quietly. The universe had apparently decided to gift me another Rosalie, and it had to be my husband’s twin.

“Oh… are you planning a feast?” she asked, eyeing the neatly arranged ingredients on the counter.
“It’s for my project,” I replied quietly.
“Ooooh,” she said, patting my hand gently. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. You’re a good cook.”
“You haven’t even tasted my food,” I said, teasing.

“How do you know it’s any good?”
“Rosalie told me all about it—she wouldn’t stop yapping about your cooking,” Olivia said dramatically.

“Well… I am a good cook,” I said with a teasing smirk.
“You definitely should put your skills to good use. The way to a man’s bel—” She stopped abruptly when my glare froze her mid-sentence.

“What?” she asked, laughing.
“I’m not trying to get to his heart,” I rolled my eyes.
“Fine, fine,” she said, raising her hands in mock surrender.

Emily walked in, nodding politely at Olivia before turning her attention to me.
“I’ve already informed the kitchen,” she said with a smile.

Olivia’s curiosity peaked, her gossip-starved side taking over. “What are you plotting?” she teased.

“Planning to steal all your paintings and burn them,” I said mockingly.

“No, not my babies!” she cried dramatically.
I rolled my eyes, gesturing at Emily. “I want to cook dinner,” I said quietly.

“I see… finally taking my advice to good use,” Olivia said proudly. I squinted at her, mentally face-palming. “I talked about it before you even got here.”

“I’ll stay for dinner,” she giggled. “I want to taste Chef Mila’s food.”

“You’re not invited,” I feigned anger, folding my arms across my chest.
“In my own house?” she asked, sticking out her tongue. I stared at her in amazement. She was so carefree. I wished I could smile so freely without the negative thoughts crowding my heart.

“I should tell Lance to come home early for dinner,” she said, pulling her phone out of her bag.

“Olivia, no!!!” I yelled, and the look of surprise on her face was priceless. She ignored me, sending a quick text to Lance.
I shook my head and sighed, heading for the kitchen.
“Wait up!” Olivia squealed from behind.
Lance
My phone buzzed as I listened to one of my workers ramble about a project I had already decided to reject. Groaning, I picked up the phone and saw a text from Olivia. Reluctantly, I opened it.
“Mila is cooking dinner, come home early.”
A look of surprise crossed my face—Carson noticed instantly, raising his eyebrows questioningly. I quickly looked away, pretending to pay attention to the man in front of me.
The meeting finally ended, and everyone left the office—everyone except my persistent personal assistant.
“Is there something you need?” I asked, irritation slipping into my tone.
“You have dinner with the Andersons tonight,” he replied calmly.
I raised my eyebrows slightly, remembering Olivia’s text.