Chapter 891


    The Runaway Groom Chapter 891


    Irene was not the two-faced type who could behave in one way in front of others while keeping another


    personality aside.


    In fact, she was not used to socializing in the first ce, but she could not ignore everyone’s greeting


    given her status.


    She was heaving a sigh of relief even as she stopped smiling, having been spared the need to be


    cordial.


    The elevator brought her straight to the basement parking lot and she pressed on the button on the car


    key. The headlights of Isaac’s car shed and beeped loudly right then, and she strode over to it when


    she found its location.


    Driving to the bookstore, she picked two recipe books on typical dishes before returning straight to


    Isaac’s office and reading them on the couch.


    She would peek at Isaac’s desk from time to time, and it appeared that he was having a teleconference


    with the Remy headquarters. His body appeared rxed as he reclined against the chair, and


    depending on what the other end said, he was at times frowning or nonchnt.


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    Irene stayed very quiet so as to not bother him.


    Then, noticing that his coffee cup was empty, Irene made him another and put it on his table.


    She smiled when Isaac looked up at her, said nothing, and returned to the couch.


    She took a sip of her fruit juice before continuing to read the recipe book.


    Then, tired from sitting, she took off her shoes to lie down.


    Isaac eventually picked up his coffee and took a sip, sliding a nce at her as he put the cup down.


    He smiled faintly, since she seemed to be enjoying the quietness.


    Returning his gaze to the screen and the video conference, he was once again solemn.


    More time passed, and Irene started to be anxious, but Isaac’s video conference was not over


    yet.


    Mrs. Watson was not at home, while Sheryl would definitely not have time to cook since she had her


    hands full with the children.


    Walking over to Isaac, she whispered, “I should go home first.”


    Isaac knew why she wanted to leave, so he called Elliot in. “Make a reservation at a restaurant, and


    then head to my house to pick up my children and mother-inw.”


    He would head over once he was done here.


    “Yes, Mr. Jefferson,” Elliot replied.


    Naturally, Irene had no choice but to go back to the couch and wait.


    It was not until the skies were dark when the video conference was over.


    Stretching her arms, Irene asked, “You’re finally done?”


    Isaac walked over to her and tousled her hair. “Getting impatient?”


    “I’m fine,” she replied. “I’m just worried my mom would be too busy with our children.”


    Isaac shrugged. “It’s not that easy to find servants who cover all bases.”


    Irene knew that. “That’s of no concern—I’ll be staying home.”


    “You can’t apply for leave every other day,” Isaac told her.


    Irene simply stared at him but said nothing.


    With that, they both left Twinrise Enterprises.


    On the way to the restaurant, Irene asked Isaac, “What’s your favorite? I’ll learn to make it for you.”


    Isaac was speechless for a moment. “We sleep in the same bed, but you don’t even know my favorite


    food?”


    Irene was left speechless for a moment too, but soon asked, “Then do you know what my favorite food


    is?”


    Isaac realized that he did not, but said, “I’ll keep an eye out in the future. I guess we were too busy with


    work to take notice before.”


    Irene wrapped her hands around his arm. “I love in food. And I’m not that picky, as long as it’s


    healthy.”


    It was probably amon ground for all doctors—preferring in food and prioritizing health.


    “I’m not picky too,” Isaac said.


    “Then tell me a few of your favorites. I’ll make them for you once I learn it.”


    Isaac mused to himself for a while and said, “Eggnt risotto, chickpea crepes, omelets, escalivada,


    potato and cod soup, steamed crayfish, and rack ofmb.”


    Irene smiled—he was just listing the dishes she made the other day.


    Those were too simple and needed no skill, and basically a menu of average homemade dishes.


    “I like anything you cook,” Isaac added.


    “Alright,” she replied. “I’ll do my best to learn more dishes, so that you have warm food when you get


    home next time.”


    Isaac turned to her. “What, are you dropping the scalpel and picking up a kitchen knife for my sake?”