Chapter 40

The man had long, pretty fingers. Miranda glanced at his cart, finding it filled with ready-to-eat food. Her gaze drifted upward to meet his; he was looking down at her.

She smiled. "Don't tell me you're having this for dinner."

"Heh, sometimes I get home too late to order takeout, so I just have something simple," Paul said indifferently.

"According to my calculations, this has enough protein, vitamins, and carbohydrates for a person's daily needs."

Miranda chuckled at his serious explanation. "It seems you've factored in every variable with scientific precision, Dr. Jefferson. But between a piping hot meal and that, which would you choose?"

Paul fell silent. The answer was obvious—who would choose instant food over a hot meal?

Miranda smiled slyly. "Leave dinner to me. In return, you just need to do me a favor."

Half an hour later, Paul stared at the fish on the chopping board. "This looks difficult."

Miranda coughed softly. "The supermarket usually has a fish cutter, but it was so busy today they could only do a basic cut. If you—"

Paul rolled up his sleeves and removed his glasses. "I'll try."

Miranda nodded. "Alright."

Garlic herb salmon tastes better when the salmon is sliced thinly. However, slicing raw fish is troublesome, so she wanted to avoid it. But watching Paul in the kitchen, she felt a pang of guilt. Was she wasting a physicist's talents on slicing fish?

Five minutes later, she stared at a row of evenly sliced fish. She had to retract her thought. Clearly, he was a natural.

"Is this okay?" Paul asked, wiping his hands.

"It's perfect. Your knife skills are comparable to a professional's."

Paul laughed. "I've never cooked before, but I learned dissection in my biology undergraduate program, so…" He chuckled.

Since Miranda had bought the salmon, Paul reciprocated by getting meat and vegetables. They enjoyed the baked fish and vegetables together.

After dinner, Paul voluntarily did the dishes.

Near the end of cleaning up, Miranda said, "It's getting late. You should head back. I'll take out the trash."

Paul usually went for a night jog, but it was very late—nearly midnight—so he didn't linger.

Miranda had napped in the evening, so she expected trouble sleeping. Unexpectedly, after saying goodbye to Paul, she felt drowsy and fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, she woke before 7:00 a.m.

"I'm so envious. You get to study at the library every day and go straight to bed, unlike me. I have a date bright and early."

On Miranda's screen, Winter was applying makeup. Thinking about her blind date, whom she'd only met a few times, she lacked enthusiasm. Even her movements were languid.

"Envious of me? Why don't you come to the library with me to study today?" Hearing the irritation in Winter's voice, Miranda steered the conversation.

Winter pouted. "Forget it. I'd rather go on this date."

She wasn't much of a scholar. Getting into Bedford College had been a pleasant surprise. One scholar—Paul—in the family was enough.

"Oh, right, I finished editing the photos from our outing. I'll send them to you."

"Okay."

Miranda's phone beeped as Winter sent the photos via WhatsApp. Miranda scrolled through them. In some, she wore a fox headband while Winter pinched her cheeks. Her expression was pitifully innocent.