In the blink of an eye, it was New Year's Eve.
All afternoon, Brandan Hyde was busy in the kitchen, accompanied by the crackling and scary noise, as he handed out one exquisite dish after another from the kitchen.
At night, a table filled with dishes as if from a five-star hotel was neatly arranged on the dining table, and Brandan handed her a pair of chopsticks: "Eat."
Iris Harris picked up a piece of braised pork to try, the meat was tender, melting in the mouth.
She was slightly surprised and glanced at Brandan, who was also looking at her: "Does it suit your taste?"
"If you ever lose your job, you could become a head chef."
Brandan took a bite of rice: "I don't cook for just anyone."
Iris paused for a moment, then looked at Brandan again.
"Why are you looking at me?" The man picked up a piece of beef for her, "It's all the foods you like. I know you love meat."
Iris's eyes flickered, she lowered her head and said nothing more, simply focusing on eating.
