"You ready?" I asked Bey as I washed my hands underneath the warm running water. "No. What if I burn the house down?"
A soft chuckle escaped my lips as they curved into a smile. I shut off the faucet and reached for the hand towel hanging beside the sink, drying my hands as I shook my head.
"Baby, you won't burn the house down. I'm gonna be here the entire time supervising you and if you really need my help, I will step in. Don't worry."
I placed the hand towel down and turned around, only to find a very nervous looking Beyonce standing a few feet away from me.
Our kitchen was warm and bright, the soft golden lights above the island illuminating the countertops while the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the large windows behind us.
Everything we needed for dinner had already been laid out across the island. Ingredients, utensils, bowls, spices, and everything else I knew we'd need.
Everything except Beyonce's confidence. "You are that stressed?" I teased. She quickly nodded her head before walking closer to me and wrapping her arms around my waist.
"Can't you just do dinner by yourself and I watch?" She pleaded, giving me that smile that made me fold every single time. I narrowed my eyes at her. "No. You are a forty four year old woman and need to learn how to cook."
She gasped softly looking genuinely offended. "I know how to cook." I raised an eyebrow. "Beyonce." "Okay... I know how to make a few things." I couldn't help but laugh. "Exactly."
I gently got out of her grip and walked over to the kitchen island, taking a seat on one of the stools. From there, I had the perfect view of her and the entire kitchen. Beyonce stood there for a moment, staring at all the ingredients like they had personally offended her.
I watched as she took a couple of deep breaths before turning around. "Alright. What do I do first?" There it was her 'getting shit done' mode. I smiled at myself. "First, wash your hands."
She gave me a slight nod before heading over to the sink. She washed her hands carefully, almost excessively, before grabbing the towel and drying them. "Good. Now grab a pot and add some water and salt into it."
She did exactly what I asked before using her brain on her own and placing the pot on the stove. I watched her turn the burner on before immediately looking back at me. "How high?" She pointed toward the stove. "High."
She nodded and turned back around. For the next several minutes, I continued giving her instructions while she followed them one by one. At first, everything was going surprisingly well. Almost too well.
Beyonce stirred the pot while occasionally looking over her shoulder at me for approval. Every time our eyes met, I'd give her a small nod and she'd turn back around with a little more confidence.
"Doll, you need to stir the cream. If you don't you will either burn it or it will dry out." She let out a low groan. "Why is cooking so much work?" "Because you're actually cooking." "I don't like this." She continued to whine.
"You haven't even finished yet." "I've learned enough." I laughed as she placed the tongs down and picked up the spoon. "Keep stirring." She muttered something underneath her breath but I couldn't make it out.
The next thirty minutes were absolutely hell for her. She moved around the kitchen with the most dramatic expressions I'd ever seen. Every few minutes she'd sigh, stare into the pot, look at me, and then sigh again.
She didn't say it out loud but I could tell by her body language that she was never doing this ever again. I was almost tempted to take a picture. Almost, then. "Shit!" I immediately snapped out of my thoughts and got off my seat.
"Are you okay?" I quickly made my way to her side. "I think I added too much salt." Worry was written all over her face. I looked down at the sauce and immediately understood why she was panicking.
There was enough salt in that pan to kill somebody. "Don't panic baby. It's okay." I grabbed the spoon that was sitting beside the stove and carefully scooped up as much of the excess salt as I could.
"Here. Place this in the sink for me." She didn't say anything. She simply grabbed the spoon and walked over to the sink. I grabbed another spoon and began stirring the sauce, trying to fix what I could.
I picked a bit of the sauce up and brought the spoon to my lips. I could see Beyonce's expression from my peripheral vision and I almost laughed. She looked like she was waiting for me to announce her sentence. I swallowed and nodded.
"This is quite good my love. See? Nothing to worry about." I placed the spoon on the countertop and walked over to her. I could tell she was still stressing so I reached for her arms and gently ran my hands up and down them.
"You did good doll. Breathe." She slowly inhaled. "The house is still standing and we will have an edible dinner on our plates tonight." She looked at me for a moment before a small smile finally appeared on her face.
"I did good?" Her eyes lit up like I'd just given her an award. "Yes, you did." She stood a little taller. "I knew I could do it." I then began laughing in her face. "Don't get ahead of yourself honey." "I'm serious. I think I might actually be a chef."
"Beyonce." Was all that escaped my mouth. "What?" Her brows pulled together. "You almost drowned the sauce in salt." My hands landed on her hips. "But I fixed it."
"I fixed it." She rolled her eyes and playfully pushed my shoulder. "Whatever I still did good." I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer pressing a quick kiss against her cheek.
"Yes baby, you still did good." She smiled against my cheek before looking back towards the stove. "So... when do I get to eat?" I stared at her. "You've been cooking for thirty minutes and that's the first thing you care about?"
"Yes." I burst out laughing. "Come on, Chef Knowles. Let's finish dinner." I patted her shoulder. She laughed as she walked back towards the stove and I couldn't help but smile as I watched her.
Maybe teaching Giselle how to cook wasn't such a bad idea after all. Then again... I probably should've hidden the salt.
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Im so excited to be working on a one shot book. I love the idea of writing whatever the hell I want and not sticking to just one storyline and the same characters.
If you have any requests feel free to let me know in the comments or in my message bored.
Much love,
Author 🤍
