Shannon glanced around, a little curious. Miranda’s soup wasn’t full either. Maybe she’d mixed up the bowls earlier.
“I think I grabbed the wrong one. There’s way too much in this for me.”
Miranda smiled. “Well, I already drank a couple sips from mine. Why don’t you just scoop some into my bowl?”
“Okay, sure.”
Shannon picked up the ladle and poured a spoonful of her soup into Miranda’s bowl. She was careful not to waste even a drop as the ingredients were crazy expensive. To keep the soup strong and nourishing, they couldn’t water it down, so each person only got one precious bowl.
“This soup is super good for you.”
Miranda took another sip and grinned. “You’re right. It tastes amazing way better than what our chef usually makes.”
Shannon beamed. “Steven, what do you think?”
“It’s good,” Steven said, sounding distracted.
As she sipped her soup, Shannon couldn’t help sneaking glances at him. He was so hot, it almost hurt to look at him. She could never get enough, no matter the angle. But it wasn’t just his looks. He had this king-like presence, a confidence that came from surviving tough times. Most men couldn’t fake that kind of power—just talking to him, you could tell he was in control.
She adored him. She obsessed over him. Day and night, he was all she thought about.
“Come on, eat something! Try what I made,” she urged.
“Okay.” Steven picked up a piece of broccoli and took a bite, barely tasting it.
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