I breathed in the heavenly aroma of fresh coffee wafting from the kitchen. Felix moved with practiced grace, flipping an omelet with one hand while seasoning it with the other.
"This smells amazing," I said, settling onto a stool at the kitchen island.
He flashed me a charming smile. "Just wait until you taste it. I added a special blend of herbs."
"Special blend?" I raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"
"Only if you're worried about experiencing culinary perfection," he replied, sliding the fluffy omelet onto a plate alongside perfectly browned toast. "So, Miss Beaumont—"
"Please, call me Seraphina."
"Seraphina," he corrected himself, "what foods do you enjoy most? I like to know the preferences of everyone I cook for."
I thought for a moment. "Honestly, I'm not picky. But I have a weakness for pasta. And chocolate desserts."