FLORA'S POV
The sound of forks hitting the plates felt entirely too loud in the quiet room.
We sat around the large, dark wooden dining table. Usually, this room felt warm and welcoming, but tonight it felt like we were under a spotlight. I sat directly across from Eugene. Every time I looked up, his dark eyes were right there. He looked completely calm and professional, hiding behind the cold mask he had put back on.
Emily sat at the end of the table between us. She was the only one talking, completely unaware of the heavy, secret tension filling the room.
"Honestly, this chicken is so good," Emily said, breaking the silence as she put more salad on her plate. "I’m telling you, Flora, you could be a private chef. Or maybe you and my dad should start a food business since you work so w
