Phoebe's POV
After Sergio's harsh words over the phone, I completely lost any appetite for dining out.
We decided to just go home and cook something instead.
I was only skilled with needles, not cooking, so making dinner definitely wasn't my responsibility.
As for Harold, spoiled from birth, nobody expected him to step foot in a kitchen.
So Harold simply gestured and had a five-star hotel chef delivered directly to Starbrook Estate.
When we arrived home, the incredible aroma of food was already drifting from the dining room.
The moment I caught that spicy, rich scent in the air, my scowl disappeared instantly. "That smells like fried fish."
Harold nodded, gesturing for me to go check. "Yeah, smells incredible. Go see for yourself."
I slipped into my house shoes and practically skipped to the dining room. My sour mood had completely evaporated. Even my ponytail seemed to bounce more cheerfully.
