We left the pottery room with my "mug" safely on the drying rack and Zaya's elegant bowl sitting proudly beside it. The contrast was laughable, but at least I had tried.
"Where are we going now?" I asked as Zaya led me back through the villa.
"You'll see," she said cryptically, her hand firm around mine.
Her "you'll see" was starting to drive me nuts, but I didn't press. I'd learned that Zaya loved her surprises, and part of me secretly enjoyed the suspense.
When we entered the kitchen, I stopped short. Spread out across the counters were fresh vegetables, herbs, pasta, and various other ingredients. It was clear she'd been planning this for a while.
"We're cooking?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.
"We're cooking," she confirmed with a smug grin.
I groaned dramatically, leaning against the counter. "Why do I feel like this is going to be more work for me than for you?"
