“So,” Jules said, finishing up an extremely eloquent story about his former life with Natasha. “That is why you should teach me how to cook.”
Harriet was not impressed. Val had mentioned that they couldn’t take off their costumes for the entirety of Horror Week, and it was really putting a damper on her hobbies. She couldn’t very well cook in pastries a pastel pink power suit! But, that doesn’t mean that she wanted to pull some Ratatouille shit with Linguini-Lite here… Especially because she didn’t think he ever washed that smoking robe and it REEKED of herb.
“Well, that’s very cute, but I’m here to win a competition NOT to help you with your love life. Shouldn’t you be dating someone who is above the legal drinking age, anyway?”
Jules just laughed, clapping an arm around his new head chef. “Oh god you’re FUNNY! Why doesn’t anyone like you? Besides, being social is part of the game. Natasha used to tell me all the time—she loves this show.”
She raised a brow. Another super fan? Interesting… Even more interesting: Jules was pretty free with his Natasha Fun Facts. Might be good to talk with him just a little. “Hm… Maybe you’re right. Let’s start with the basics: what can you cook?”
”Meth. HAHA that’s a joke…” he looked around, then leaned in and whispered. “Unless you’re interested in cooking, in which case I want to tell you how to do it without it blowing up in your face.”
Oh lord. This was going to be a headache.