To make herself stop pacing, Cindy decided to try and be useful by cooking. So far, bunking with Benton meant pizza for basically every meal, and although she would gladly eat pizza and drink good wine for the rest of her life, a change of menu wouldn’t hurt. Nor would giving her brain a welcome break from overthinking the clusterfuck that her life has become.
Without further overthinking, Cindy started to rummage through the immense kitchen and prayed she would end up with something edible and not a house fire. A second house fire, she cringed.
Thankfully, a lot of the supplies that Lydia Benton brought still lay untouched, and most of them were still usable. Therefore, after sifting through the perishables, Cindy took stock of the ingredients she had available.
When no gourmet meal id
