Chapter 972

Vivian Dempsey hastily lifted Baby Chloe off Victor Laurent and handed her a pile of building blocks. Clearing her throat, she began reciting Evelyn Carter and Alexander Hamilton's instructions.

"Adults can order takeout or ask the Hamiltons' housekeeper for help. As for the baby..." She pointed to the kitchen cabinet. "There's rice cereal and yogurt melts. You just need to boil water."

These reminders were originally from Evelyn. After tasting Vivian's disastrous cooking in college, Evelyn had banned her from the kitchen—boiling water was her only permitted task.

Just as Vivian was about to tease Victor, she suddenly remembered something. Clutching the baby, she rushed into the kitchen. "Stop!"

Victor stood there, whisking two eggs in a bowl, looking baffled. "Are the eggs bad?"

The kitchen was stocked enough to host a banquet. He'd planned to steam egg custard for the baby but was intercepted before even lighting the stove.

Vivian exhaled in relief. "Remember your college stunt with the alcohol burner and instant noodles? That landed me in the hospital with gastritis for three days!" She rolled her eyes at the memory.

Victor chuckled dismissively. "I've improved. Let me show you." He patted his chest confidently. "Back then, it was the tools' fault. Now I have a proper stove."

"And you're sure it wasn't your skills?" Vivian eyed him skeptically. This guy didn't even have a permanent address abroad—how good could his cooking be?

"Just watch." Victor was eager for her to stay and witness his skills.

Thirty minutes later, a bowl of golden, silky egg custard emerged, garnished with green scallions and wafting an enticing aroma.

Vivian's eyes widened. "You actually made this?" The baby in her arms curiously reached out a tiny hand.

Victor beamed. "Piece of cake. Want me to whip up some spaghetti? That's my specialty."

Another half hour passed.

They stared in stunned silence at the pot of flaming spaghetti. Victor frantically turned off the burner and covered the pot, but the noodles were already charred to a crisp.

"So..." Vivian massaged her temples. "You didn't know to break the noodles before boiling them?" She took a bite of the egg custard. "The skill gap is unreal."

Victor sheepishly cleaned up the mess. "Well... I only know how to make egg custard."

Vivian sighed deeply. "Let's order takeout. Is this pot salvageable? If not, I'll buy a new one."

After thirty minutes of scrubbing, the stubborn black stains remained. Victor emerged from the kitchen, disheveled. "I'll head out. What do you want to eat?"

His carefully planned meal had gone up in flames. Resigned, he decided to fall back on the simplest way to prove himself—actions.

A shadow crossed his eyes as memories from before his time abroad resurfaced. Thinking he was upset, Vivian offered rare comfort. "Spaghetti is tricky to get right."

Not that she'd ever tried.

Victor instantly perked up. "Really?"

Vivian immediately regretted her softness. "...Yeah. You're going to buy a new pot, right? The mall carries the same model. For lunch, I want spicy hot pot—medium heat with extra garlic—"

"No tofu, extra lotus root and napa cabbage, skip the luncheon meat." Victor recited flawlessly. "With an iced cola, right?"

Vivian froze. "You remember?"

In their school days, they'd been an inseparable trio with Evelyn. Her preferences were etched in his memory.

Victor grinned ear to ear. "Of course. How many years did I bring you meals? Before I transferred, wasn't I the one delivering your lunches and midnight snacks?" He barely stopped himself from adding, "Before Simon Stapleton showed up."

Vivian laughed at his eager-for-praise expression. "Fine, good memory. My treat today."