Chapter 54

Mona's POV

I noticed the smile on Flynn after I had left her and Vance at the entrance to the room. My jaw clenched as I saw her approaching me. There was something about the way she walked toward me—too confident, too... well, Flynn.

Her smile was wide, and I could already feel the tension creeping up my neck. It wasn’t just a simple smile either. No, this was the kind of smile that came with a giggle. A giggle, for God’s sake.

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, standing as rigidly as a statue, hoping to send the message that I wasn't interested in whatever nonsense she was about to pull out of her perfect little pocket of tricks. I stared at her with pure, unfiltered anger and hatred, letting it boil beneath the surface, like a cauldron of resentment ready to spill over.

Flynn stopped in front of me, that infuriating smile still plastered across her face. It was as if she didn’t care that I couldn’t stand the sight of her.

“Mona,” she said, her voice so sweet it practically dripped with sugar. “I have a little surprise for you.”

I raised an eyebrow, the skepticism evident in my expression. “Surprise?” I repeated, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do I look like someone who’s ever been surprised in your presence?”

“Oh, you’ll be surprised by this one, trust me,” she said with a wink.

I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to strangle her or roll my eyes, but before I could say anything, she continued, “I’ve made you something.”

I frowned, confused. “You’ve... what?” I had heard her correctly, right?

Flynn’s smile stretched even wider, and I could swear I saw a hint of mischievousness in her eyes. “I’ve made you dinner,” she said with a flourish, as if the very idea of her cooking was something worthy of applause.

My mouth fell open, and I couldn’t help but stare at her, dumbfounded. “Dinner? You cooked? For me?” The words felt foreign coming from my mouth. Why would she do something like that? Why would she, of all people, cook for me?

She nodded, her arms spreading wide as if she were presenting a grand masterpiece. “Yes, Mona. I, the infamous Flynn, have cooked you a proper meal.”

I blinked a few times, as if I’d misheard. This couldn’t be real. Flynn and I didn’t exactly have a history of pleasant exchanges. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that we couldn’t stand each other. I was the ice queen of the kitchen, and she... well, she was the walking embodiment of smug.

“Why?” I blurted out, still unable to make sense of this.

“Why?” she repeated, sounding almost shocked by my question. “Well, because I’m a great cook, for one. And secondly... Vance asked me to. He thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Vance,” I muttered under my breath. Of course, it was Vance. Why wouldn’t he be the reason behind this absurd situation? The man had a habit of trying to play the peacemaker, even if it meant throwing me into awkward situations with my least favorite people.

“You don’t think I can cook?” Flynn pressed, and I could tell she was trying to bait me.

I narrowed my eyes. “No,” I said, the word coming out harshly, “I don’t think you can cook. I think you just ordered takeout and put it on a plate to make it look like you did something.”

Flynn smirked, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I promise you, this wasn’t takeout.” She stepped back dramatically, as though preparing to reveal a magic trick. “I made it myself. With my own two hands.”

I couldn’t help the skepticism that washed over me. “Right.”

Flynn continued, unfazed. “If you want to see it, I can bring it here.”

I looked her up and down, still not sure if this was some cruel joke. “Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll go with it. But if you poisoned me, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

Flynn laughed, a soft, melodic sound that didn’t fit the animosity I usually felt toward her. “Oh, Mona, if I wanted to poison you, I’d have done it a long time ago.”

“I’m still waiting for that day,” I retorted, my arms crossed tighter.

Flynn didn’t seem phased by my words. “Why don’t you just try it? You might be surprised.”

At this point, I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. This was insane. Flynn, the woman who I had once argued with over the simplest things, the one who constantly pushed my buttons, was now trying to feed me? It was like a strange dream I couldn’t wake up from.

I let out a deep sigh, rubbing my temples. “Fine,” I muttered, “I’ll humor you. I’ll try it. But if you really did make this food yourself, you’ll have to explain why I’ve never tasted anything like it in the five years we’ve known each other.”

She raised an eyebrow, her grin widening, but instead of responding, she turned on her heel and marched off toward the kitchen.

I stood there, bewildered, watching her retreating back. What was happening? Why was Flynn being... nice? I’d never seen this side of her. She had always been the snarky, sharp-tongued cook who made sure every meal she prepared was perfect, but she never offered anything with a smile like this.

When she returned a few moments later, she was holding a steaming plate of food in her hands. I could smell the tantalizing aroma before I even saw it. My stomach growled, betraying my stubbornness. The meal was beautifully presented, and the colors made it look like something out of a five-star restaurant.

“Ta-da!” Flynn said with a flourish, practically shoving the plate into my hands. “Bon appétit, Mona.”

I stared at the food, then back at her. “Is this some kind of test? Am I supposed to thank you for this?”

Flynn shrugged. “You can thank me later, if you want. Or not. It’s up to you. But for now, just eat. I promise, I didn’t poison it. Well, not intentionally.”

I took a cautious bite, half-expecting it to be awful. To my shock, it was delicious—comforting and rich, with layers of flavors that actually made sense. For a moment, I forgot all about the animosity between us and just focused on the taste.

“Not bad,” I said begrudgingly, setting the fork down.

Flynn smiled, her expression softening. “I’m glad you like it. It’s actually my grandmother’s recipe.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought you didn’t have a grandmother.”

She winked. “I don't. But I like to keep the mystery alive.”