Christopher's POV
I led Tiffany through the hotel lobby, nodding at the staff as we passed. The café was my pride and joy, a sleek, modern space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bustling LA streets.
"This place is gorgeous," Tiffany marveled, her gaze sweeping over the gleaming marble and sparkling chandeliers.
"Thanks. I designed it myself," I said, hiding my pride. "Well, with help from a team of very expensive designers."
We settled at a quiet corner table, and I signaled for the waiter. "Two espressos, please. And maybe some of those little almond cookies?"
Tiffany fidgeted with her napkin, clearly uncomfortable. "Listen, Christopher, I want to apologize again for earlier. I feel like such an idiot."
I waved off her apology. "Water under the bridge. Let's just star
