Flash Marriage: Slow Down Mister

"Food," Horace said curtly. "If you want to pay me back, cook for me."

Clara opened her eyes wide, couldn't believe her ears.

"That's it?" she said in surprise. "But I'm not much of a good cook."

She meant, that the food she cooked was "not bad", that is, if not compared with Martha.

But Horace wanted her to cook for him? Seriously?

"What's it?" Horace lifted his brows slightly. "You don't want to?"

"Of course, I do." Clara immediately said. "But I owe you 60 thousand. How many meals should I cook for you?"

"How do you think?" Horace asked back.

Clara had no idea.

Dining at a normal restaurant shall cost at most a few hundred. 60 thousand should be hundreds of meals.

"A hundred?" she asked cautiously.

Horace found her cute when she carefully did the math. He smiled. "It's a deal."

"What should I cook for you then?" A meal that cost a few hundred, she must prepare it carefully. "Well, I know only a few dishes. I'll check the recipe and try tomorrow." "Alright." Horace smiled even more.

The next day was Sunday. Horace left home for a meeting early in the morning.

Clara found some recipes online after she woke up and began to study them.

After being with Horace for a while, Clara noticed he seemed like spicy food. So, Clara chose three spicy dishes.

She stayed in the kitchen the entire morning and at noon, she finished her first dish. She immediately took a photo of it and sent it to Horace, asking if he liked it.

At the meeting office of Solrace.

Directors from all departments were all presented, making a report with great caution.

"Mr. Kirkland, that's what we've achieved this quarter." One of the middle-aged men, while wiping sweat, carefully said, "Are you still satisfied?"

Horace flipped through the documents in his hand, and said indifferently, "Do you think I'll be satisfied with this kind of achievement?" The crowd broke out in a cold sweat again. "May... may I ask which part doesn't meet your expectation?"

"All," Horace said curtly. He tossed away the document at hand and said emotionlessly, "Redo it."

The room fell into dead silent.

Horace, a man in a wheelchair, had built Solrace from nothing to an important company in just two years, thanks to his decisive leadership.

"Okay, Mr. Kirkland!" The middle-aged man took back the document in a panic. The next director was about to start reporting, trembling.

But at this time, a crisp ringtone rang in the dead silence.

Everybody turned pale. They looked at each other in panic. Who dared not turn his phone into silent mode during meeting time?

Just as everyone was looking at each other, Horace calmly looked at the mobile phone, which lit up on his desk, it showed that Clara sent a photo.

Horace swiped across the phone with his slender fingers, and he saw the dishes in the photo, as well as Clara's text, "Mr. Creditor, which do you want to eat today?"

People in the conference room saw Horace pick up the mobile phone and suddenly realized that it was Horace's phone just rang. They exchanged a look of disbelief. Horace had always been a workaholic. He didn't use mobile phones at all, unless for work. But now he was checking text messages in the meeting? Before everyone could recover from the shock, something more shocking occurred- Horace smiled...

People were all stunned, they couldn't believe that their boss, who usually behaved like a killer robot, would smile.

Many people present had been working for Horace since the day Solrace was built. Even they never saw the man in the wheelchair smiles.

Clara, who was busy in the kitchen on the other side, did not know that the few photos she sent out had caused such a sensation in Solrace. She browsed through several other recipes and then heard the phone ring.

She picked up her phone and saw Horace's message saying, "All of them."

So greedy. Clara skimmed her lips. She ate the fish herself and cooked another one in the afternoon.

In the evening, Horace returned home and saw a sumptuous table of dishes and the petite woman busy in the kitchen. It seemed an ordinary sense, but it put a smile on Horace's face.

"You're back?" Clara noticed Horace and hurried out, "Wash your hands and try them. I cooked a lot, if you can't finish them I can pack them in a lunch box so you could bring them to work.

"Nah." Horace sat down. "I can finish them."

Clara didn't think so. It was a lot of food even for four people, not to mention only two of them.

However, she had underestimated Horace. His appetite seemed to be better than usual that day. He indeed finished all the dishes.

Clara was stunned. She had eaten with Horace quite a few times yet she never realized that he could eat so much.

The next day was Sunday. Clara again spent the entire day cooling for Horace. This was how the weekend passed. On Monday, Clara went to work.

She used to enjoy going to work before Darren became the editor-in-chief.

Unlucky for her. Just as she sat down in the office, the managing editor came over and said, "Clara, I have an interview this afternoon. Could you please sort out this document and send it over to Mr. Kirkland's office?"

Clara took over and frowned, "I have to prepare for tomorrow's interview in the afternoon, could you please find someone else to do that?"

Before the editor answered, Diane Kirby, who was on the side, suddenly mocked, "Oh, Miss Selman, can you stop acting? Everybody knows about your relationship with Mr. Kirkland."

Clara was stunned. She didn't expect Diane's words. Looking at Diane, who joined the company at the same time, she frowned, "Diane, stop, that's not true."

"That's not true? Or are you guilty?" Diane sneered. She peered at Clara and said, "Clara, we are not blind."