Olivia's POV
I lounged on Christopher's plush couch, sinking into its leather embrace as I sipped a glass of ridiculously expensive wine. The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. This wasn't my first rodeo at his mansion, but damn if it didn't still take my breath away.
"You sure you don't want help?" I called out, eyeing Christopher's back as he bustled around the kitchen.
He turned, flashing me that million-dollar smile. "Relax, darling. I've got this under control."
I quirked an eyebrow, swirling the wine in my glass. "Uh-huh. And I'm supposed to believe that whatever you're cooking up is actually going to be edible?"
"I'll have you know I'm quite the chef."
"Sure, if by 'chef' you mean 'guy who can order takeout really well'," I teased.
He wagged a spatula at me. "Just you wait. You're in for a surprise."