In the evening, Butler Santana returned from outside.
For fear of disturbing the young couple, she had stayed outside chatting with so older ladies for quite a while.
In the kitchen, Sylvan Cheney rolled up his sleeves to help Butler Santana with the cooking.
Jasmine Yale washed small tomatoes, occasionally feeding one to Sylvan and Butler Santana.
Butler Santana was in an exceptionally good mood, as if she hadn’t been this happy in a long ti. She cheerfully said, "Well, CEO Cheney, feel free to co over often, I can cook for you two."
"Sure," Sylvan replied.
Jasmine was also in a good mood, occasionally helping out.
However, her cooking wasn’t particularly good, so she didn’t interfere.
"It’s been a long ti since the house was this lively, or since anyone new visited," Butler Santana sighed, "CEO Cheney, Jasmine really likes you, you should treat her well."
"Butler Santana..." Jasmine playfully chided, "He knows."
"I will," Sylvan responded solemnly.
By the ti all the dishes were prepared, it was late.
The deep autumn night ca early, outside, it was already the ti of a thousand lights and the beginning of the shining lights.
The moonlight and the lamplight intertwined, casting a hazy glow on the tall buildings.
The lights in the house were especially bright, complenting the white walls, making it warm and peaceful, with a kind of graceful ease, flowing like water, slowly overflowing.
At the small square table, Jasmine sat to the right of Sylvan.
The table was full of dishes.
To Sylvan’s surprise, the dishes prepared by the housekeeper were all his favorites, seasoned perfectly according to his taste.
It seems Jasmine must have told her a lot about him.
Jasmine hadn’t felt this way for a long ti.
The last ti they had eaten together was at the Cheney Residence, wasn’t it?
It seed like so long ago...
During the al, Butler Santana occasionally turned her gaze towards Sylvan; sotis, she stared so intently that she forgot to look away.
Mr. Cheney was still the sa Mr. Cheney, but as Jasmine said, his personality had changed a lot.
He wasn’t this gentle before; the old Mr. Cheney always gave people a sense of superiority and pressure, but not now.
The young man in the gray-black thin sweater before her was very chatty, with a gentle yet mature air, refined yet not lacking elegance.
She had been with Mr. Cheney and Jasmine for a long ti and could tell Jasmine used to be sowhat afraid of Sylvan.
How could it be like now, without any reservations?
Jasmine fed him a piece of at, "Eat it."
Sylvan let out a cough.
She only told him to restrain himself, why didn’t she restrain herself?
Yet, he still ate it.
Butler Santana smiled, thinking it better for them to live together, to further cultivate their feelings.
Jasmine pointed at the fish, "CEO, can you help pick the bones out? I’m too lazy to do it myself, just want to eat the ready at."
"Aunt Santana, is she this spoiled at ho too?" Sylvan asked.
Butler Santana laughed, "CEO Cheney, Jasmine only acts spoiled with you."
She wasn’t lying.
Jasmine wouldn’t ask anyone else to help her remove fish bones.
Perhaps Mr. Cheney was the only one indulging her like this since she was young.
At the Cheney Residence, she rembered Sylvan often helped Jasmine pick fish bones and peel shrimp, pampering her greatly.
"Even knows how to complain to Butler Santana, tsk tsk," Jasmine glanced at him.
He could even complain.
Nevertheless, Sylvan still picked out fish bones for her and cautiously removed them.
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