Matthew had an excellent memory, his schedules meticulously organized in his mind. A raised eyebrow recalled his promise to Valerie the previous night: he would meet her family.

Valerie felt this would be a considerable burden for him, so despite his promise, she remained uneasy.

Unexpectedly, Matthew said, "I've already asked a friend to help me book some high-grade seafood and fruit, and I've also prepared red wine. Besides your brother, will any other relatives be there? What about your parents?"

Valerie was unprepared for his advance preparations, momentarily stunned. "Besides Julian, his wife Ashley, and their child Aiden will be coming. My parents won't be able to make it because they live too far away."

"Do they have any dietary restrictions?" Matthew asked.

"Ashley and Aiden don't eat much spicy food. Otherwise, they're fine."

Matthew listened intently. "How old is Aiden?"

"Five. Why?" Valerie hesitated, fearing Matthew had heard something negative about Aiden. She worried about how to warn him against making fun of her son.

However, she was surprised to hear Matthew say calmly, "I should prepare some gifts for him, since it's our first meeting."

A surprised look flashed across Valerie's eyes, followed by a smile. "They're coming tomorrow at noon, and I'll go buy some ingredients and kitchen utensils in the morning."

The apartment, intended for their married life, contained only a few simple pieces of furniture and beds; the kitchen was empty.

Matthew understood. "You can cook?"

Having only bought breakfast together for the past few days, Matthew assumed she couldn't cook. He wasn't inflexible, understanding her busy work schedule left little time for housework. He was surprised by her culinary skills.

Valerie raised an eyebrow, a smug smile playing on her lips. "You really underestimate me. Not only can I cook, I'm a good cook!"

Since age twelve, she'd managed the household. Later, after a conflict with her mother that led to her being forced from home, she'd even apprenticed at a restaurant. She'd also cooked most meals during her two years living with her aunt.

Valerie was confident in her cooking abilities. Her recent lack of cooking stemmed from both her busy schedule and the empty apartment; aside from her microwave, there weren't any kitchen utensils.

Unlike her, Matthew was somewhat finicky about food, though not overly demanding. Years of rigorous training had accustomed him to an ascetic lifestyle; his diet mostly consisted of steak, chicken breast, and salads. Even at the Grant Manor, the staff knew his preferences and prepared light, low-fat meals.

He didn't believe women had to cook. His fifty-two-year-old mother had never done housework, so he wouldn't demand it of Valerie.

Hearing her confession, he didn't take it seriously. Instead, he noticed her genuine smile—a far cry from the forced smiles he was used to seeing. This was the first time he'd seen her so animated.

Matthew said, "I'll go shopping with you tomorrow morning."

Needing his help carrying groceries, Valerie readily agreed. "Deal."

"Okay." Matthew put on his shoes, preparing to leave.

Valerie called out, "Wait, Mr. Grant!"

Matthew turned. Valerie, standing on tiptoe, gently pressed two index fingers against the corners of his mouth.

She said, "You need to smile more. Don't be so stony-faced. If Mr. Hudson fires you, finding a new job will be tough."

Matthew was speechless.