A Recipe For Connections

Katherine slung her purse over her shoulder and glanced at Zayn, who was still leaning casually against the desk like he owned the place– which he did, his hazel eyes watching her intently. For someone who always seemed to be in control, there was something unnervingly relaxed about him now. It set her on edge.

“Leaving already?” Zayn asked, his tone casual but edged with curiosity as he toyed with the empty whiskey glass.

She paused mid-step, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’ve got things to do, Zayn,” she said lightly. “You’ve made your pitch, and now I need time to think.”

Zayn smirked, tilting his head slightly as if weighing his next words. “No need to rush,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting. “Stay a little longer. I’ll cook you lunch.”

Katherine blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. “You? Cooking?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a surprise. I thought you had a personal chef for that. Thea mentioned his name is... Franny, right?”