Pasta was sacred
‘Spinach and mascarpone tagliatelle,’ Jackson replied, and I nearly fell off the stool I was sitting on.
‘You what now?’ I asked, unable to form a coherent sentence. I loved that meal, and it had been one of my favourites for years now. Ever since… oh, now it all made sense. Parker knew it was my favourite, and obviously he’d asked Jackson to make it specifically, to get on my good side. If anything, it made me more mad that he was trying to win me around with pasta. Pasta was sacred, and no man should ever use it for their own agenda.
Until next time,
