Chapter 0182


    I can already taste the financial stress paying a professional like him would put me in if I hired him for


    good, but I’m already thinking of ways to foot the bill. I still need to give Anton time to prove himself, but


    if he does, I know I want him to stay. And I think everyone else does, too.


    Even Karl, maybe.


    “Anton, you promised me a cooking lesson. How about now?” I ask, leaning against the counter and


    trying not to seem too eager.


    He looks up, his eyes twinkling. “Ah, Abby, I was hoping you’d remember,” he says in that signature


    ent of his. There’s a newfound sense of excitement in him, and I can tell that the kitchen is really his


    home. “Yes, yes, of course!”


    Within moments, he’s setting up the ingredients on a clean countertop: farro mafaldine pasta, assorted


    mushrooms, various cheeses and spices, and of course the coveted ck truffles.


    “So, watch closely. First, you want to get the water boiling like it’s a hot spring in d,” Anton


    instructs, setting arge pot on the stove.


    N?velDrama.Org exclusive content.


    “dic hot springs, got it,” I nod, not really sure where des into the picture, but willing to


    go with it.


    We move through the steps. Anton’s hands are precise, his instructions detailed yet straightforward,


    and also oddly couched in every metaphor and analogy possible. I can see John and Karl peeping over


    from their stations, curious but not wanting to intrude. They pretend to be absorbed in their tasks but I


    can tell that they’re eavesdropping.


    “A touch of salt in the water,” Anton says as he sprinkles it into the pot, “makes it as salty as the sea. Or


    at least, that’s what my grandma used to say. She drowned in a freshwaterke, which I always found


    ironic.”


    My eyes widen. “Anton…”


    “Kidding, kidding,” he says, flicking another pinch of salt into the water with a flourish. Behind me, I can


    hear John stifle augh, and ites out like he’s being choked.


    After we add the pasta, Anton guides me through the delicate process of making the sauce. He


    sautees the mushrooms carefully. “Treat them like you would a first date, gentle yet with intent,” he


    says, and now I’m the one who can’t contain myugh.


    “How many first dates have you had with mushrooms?”


    “Ah, a gentleman never tells.”


    Finally, it’s time to add the part that I’ve most been dreading: the ck truffle butter. After carefully


    simmering almost microscopic pieces of ck truffles withrd, Anton slices a small piece, letting it


    melt into the pan, and the aroma is heavenly.


    “So you userd instead of butter,” I murmur, jotting on my notepad.


    Anton nods. “Lard has so much more vor. Just pray that none of the judges for yourpetition are


    vegetarians. Ha!”


    After the truffle butter has melted, webine the pasta with the sauce, stirring it gently until it looks as


    mouth watering as any dish I’ve seen prepared in this kitchen.


    “Et vo! It’s done. Go on, te it.” Anton steps back, handing me the reins now.


    My hands are slightly shaky, the anticipation mingling with a tiny stream of self-doubt. What if I ruin it at


    thest step? I nce over at John and Karl; they’ve put down their tools now, their full attention on


    me.


    No pressure, right?


    I take a deep breath, spoon some pasta onto a dish, and top it off with a sprinkle of parmesan cheese


    and a sprig of basil. Anton hands me a fork with a nod.


    “We should all taste it,” I dere, twirling a piece of pasta around my fork.


    “It’s…” I start, searching for the words.


    “Delicious,” John finishes my sentence, his eyes wide with delight. Reаd at Dramanovеls


    “Perfect,” Karl adds, and I notice his stoic demeanor has given way to a grin.


    I look at Anton, my eyes filled with gratitude. “It really is perfect, Anton. Thank you… for everything.”