Jackson didn’t put her down; he carried her while buying two hot dogs, handing one to her and, after a moment of thought, handing her the other too. “You’re giving me both? Aren’t you going to eat?” Miranda asked hesitantly. “Of course I’ll eat,” Jackson chuckled. “But as the driver, I have to ensure your safety. My hands are full, so you can feed me.” “You’re just being cheeky,” Miranda mumbled. “What was that?” “Nothing,” she said, holding the hot dog up for him to take a bite. He obliged but yelped, “It’s too hot! It’s burning me!” “It just came out of the oven and fryer; of course it’s hot! You must be starving to take such a big bite,” Miranda teased. Jackson, feeling embarrassed, replied, “I’m not starving, but this is the first time you’re feeding me. I have to eat more to enjoy your empress grace.” “That’s grammatically incorrect. An empress can’t have a ‘grace’ like that,” she pointed out. “So what, ‘mother’s grace’? That doesn’t fit either. Whatever, language is for expressing ideas, right? As long as you get what I mean. By the way, is your hand okay holding that hot dog? You can give it to me if it’s too hot.” Miranda smiled, “I’m fine; I’m used to handling this kind of heat.” She felt his grip tighten around her legs suddenly, and he fell silent. She raised the hot dog to his lips again, but he didn’t open his mouth. “Why aren’t you eating?” “Emily.” “What?” “I want to ask you something,” his voice softened. She nodded, “Sure, go ahead.” “Can you cook me a meal?” Miranda blinked, surprised. “Today?”Jackson laughed, “No rush. Just whenever you have a weekend free, I’d love for you to cook at my place. I miss home-cooked meals.” Miranda readily agreed, “That’s easy; just a meal. This weekend works. Are you missing American food because you’ve been in Europe too long?” “Not really. I grew up abroad, so I’m used to different foods. I just… well, you’ve cooked for Nathan and Vincent. Now that I’m your boyfriend, can I also have a meal you made just for me?” … Cooking wasn’t difficult for her; it was second nature. But Jackson’s words from yesterday struck a chord, making her feel a little bittersweet. As if sensing her mood, Amy knocked on the office door and peeked in, “Miranda, Adam wants to see you in the conference room.” Since yesterday’s incident with Bob, Amy had taken it upon herself to stay by Miranda’s side, claiming she’d be her sentinel and ensuring nothing like that would happen again. Miranda pondered for a moment and agreed. Having Amy around kept a bit of her innocence alive, and she wouldn’t be too harsh on her. However, skills in the workplace had to be learned, and while Amy could enjoy life under Miranda's protection, she needed to acquire real competence. Today marked Amy’s first day on duty outside; she arrived half an hour early, prepared coffee, and even breakfast, leaving Miranda a bit overwhelmed. She was used to solving all of Amy’s problems, so being on the receiving end felt strange but nice. But Amy had her own ambitions. Determined to be Miranda’s right-hand woman, she wanted to set high standards for herself. Not long after, Adam’s secretary sent an email, and Amy rushed in to report without a moment’s delay. “Is it now?” Miranda asked. “In half an hour,” Amy replied. “I found out Adam also called in a few other design team members—strong performers who are quiet and don’t stir up trouble. Bob isn’t invited this time.” Miranda’s eyes lit up with appreciation for her assistant. “Good job, Amy.” Feeling rewarded, Amy hummed a tune as she left.“What’s the name of that song you’re humming?” Miranda asked. “It’s called ‘Lemon Tree,’ have you not heard of it?” “The melody sounds familiar, but I can’t recall the name.” “I’ll download it and send it to you!” Once again, Amy’s enthusiasm brightened the atmosphere. Miranda thought how wonderful it was to have such a lively personality around, reminiscent of Jackson’s advice: to say what you want, do what you want, and not worry about tomorrow’s weather. The worst that could happen was getting soaked. Half an hour later, Miranda arrived at the conference room punctually. Several design team colleagues were already there, but Adam hadn’t arrived yet. Miranda smiled and nodded at them before choosing a corner seat. But they all pointed to the seat closest to the main table, saying, “Miranda, that’s your seat.” Miranda hesitated, “It’s fine; I’m late, so I can sit in the back.” “No, no! You’re the design director; that seat belongs to you.” “Yeah, Miranda, I stayed up all night reviewing your proposal from yesterday. Honestly, I’m your biggest fan now.” “That design was perfect! It’s amazing how you managed such complex data without any errors. The Pritzker Prize is well-deserved.” “I plan to study your award-winning design closely tonight, or rather, worship it.” Miranda smiled subtly, amused by their enthusiasm. British flattery could be quite impressive. Just as she was pondering this, Adam entered, saying, “Looks like everyone is here. Sorry for the delay; I was held up waiting for the elevator.”