Lyndon didn't press further, but curiosity flickered in his eyes.

Tilda set her coffee down, the hint of a smirk on her Lips.

"Honestly, I just came to remind everyone that I'm still Mrs. Fernandez. Now that I've ditched my glasses, I worry your receptionists might think I'm some random visitor if I don't come more often."

He chuckled, catching the humor in her words, and glanced at his watch.

“Hungry? Want to grab something to eat?"

Tilda pondered for a moment. "What do you usually eat? I'll just have what you're having."

He raised an eyebrow, teasing, "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" she insisted. "You're so picky; whatever you eat must be good."

He squinted at her, feigning offense. “So, you're calling me hard to please?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "You're so dramatic! If I ever run out of ideas for a script, I know who to ask."

Lyndon smirked, enjoying the banter. "Sure, but will you pay me?"

"Oh, I'll pay you a dollar," she teased.

He leaned back, grinning. "A reward from my wife, no matter how small, is always welcome."

She was at a loss for words. Lyndon certainly was better at teasing her.

She fell silent for a moment, her heart swelling at the playful affection between them. Just then, Lyndon's phone buzzed on the desk.

Lyndon was just about to rise from the sofa when Tilda stepped forward, her voice quick and light. "Let me get your phone for you."

He paused, his brow lifting slightly. Tilda hadn't been this helpful in a while. His gaze followed her as she crossed the room to his desk.

There was something deliberate in her movement, a touch too casual to be innocent.

Tilda picked up his phone, glancing at the screen. A faint smile tugged at her Lips.

Of course, it was Rita calling.

Tilda raised the phone, giving it a slow shake in his direction.

"It's Rita. Want me to answer it for you?"

Lyndon's eyes narrowed slightly, amusement flickering behind them.

She'd been waiting for this, hadn't she? The anticipation in her voice wasn't lost on him.