For once, Damian Fairchild didn't taunt her. "Eat your noodles. They won't be good if they get clumpy."
Damian Fairchild's cooking was, without a doubt, superb. After Seraphina Quinn finished, she found herself wanting more.
Wiping his fingers with a napkin, Damian Fairchild took in her utterly ravenous expression and couldn't help but ask:
"What? The catered meals from the five-star hotel on set aren't good enough for you? Does it have to be my cooking to whet your appetite?"
That was a loaded statement.
Seraphina Quinn frowned. "You're the one providing the meals for the cast and crew?"
Damian Fairchild crumpled the napkin into a ball and tossed it into the trash. "Who else?"
Seraphina Quinn's heart gave a foolish flutter. She couldn't stop herself from asking, "Why?"
Damian Fairchild replied nonchalantly, "Haven't I told you? Audrey Winslow has liver failure. Naturally, I need to fatten you up to prolong her life."
