Chapter 11
“You’re all he’s talked about. Hayley this. Hayley that.” Scott’s mother said with a light laugh sipping her tea from bed. “He has a massive crush on you.”
1 froze where I stood, halfway setting a tray down on her nightstand. “I–what?”
She smiled knowingly, her eyes twinkling despite her frailness. “Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t notice. My son doesn’t invite just anyone to work in his private kitchen. Or let them see him
naked
Heat shot up my neck. That was an accident!”
“Sure it was,” she said, clearly amused.
I managed a polite laugh, but the second I left her room, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Scott? Having a crush on me?
It was ridiculous.
And yet… it wasn’t
Later that evening, when we crossed paths in the hallway, I caught him glancing at me, then quickly looking away.
“Something wrong?” I asked, trying not to grin.
He coughed into his fist. “No. Just thinking.”
‘About me?” I teased.
He looked horrified–and adorable. “What? No!”
| burst out laughing. “You’re a terrible liar, Scott Thompson.”
His ears tumed red. “Okay, maybe my mom exaggerated—”
‘Did she?” I tilted my head, enjoying how flustered he got.
‘Okay, fine,” he muttered. “Maybe I did say one or two things. But I don’t have a crush. That’s…
uvenile.”
‘Mm–hmm,” I said, walking past him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
He groaned. “You’re going to make this impossible, aren’t you?”
‘Absolutely.”
And just like that, the awkwardness melted.
From then on, we settled into something that felt effortless and new. Flirty moments found their way into everything–breakfast, walks, late–night kitchen raids.
Once, I was chopping herbs and humming to myself when Scott leaned against the doorframe and said, “If you hum like that in the restaurant, we’ll have lines out the door.”
“Oh? Because of the food?”
“No,” he said, dead serious. “Because of the chef.”
Another time, I found a sticky note inside the fridge that read: ‘For the best cook in Switzerland. And surely the prettiest. The handwriting was definitely his.
At first, I tried to ignore how my heart fluttered. I’d sworn off romance–especially with powerful
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men. But Scott wasn’t like Jarren. He didn’t belittle me. He didn’t expect perfection or pretend m emotions were inconveniences. He just… let me be me.
And soon, his home became something I didn’t expect.
A safe place.
Scott didn’t just disappear after hiring me–he was there. Present. Curious. He made it a habit t eat in the kitchen while I cooked, perching at the island with a glass of wine or coffee, always ready with a joke, a compliment, or a teasing remark.
“You know,” he said one afternoon, watching as I carefully plated a risotto dish, “if I keep eating like this, you’ll have to roll me to meetings.”
“Then stop eating so much,” I teased, sliding the plate toward him.
He picked up the fork with a grin. “Not a chance.”
I leaned against the counter, watching him take his first bite. His eyes closed like he was experiencing something spiritual. “You really know how to ruin a man, Hayley.”
“Oh, so now I’m ruining you?”
He pointed the fork at me. “Completely. First it was just breakfast. Now I’m dreaming about your lemon chicken. I woke up hungry at 3 a.m. last night.”
I laughed. “That sounds like a you problem.”
He chuckled, shaking his head, then looked up at me. “No, it’s definitely a you problem. You’ve officially spoiled me.”
I started cooking for his mother every day, sitting with her for afternoon tea, learning little things -like how Scott once dyed his hair blue in high school to impress a girl and immediately regretted it.
‘He was a walking blueberry,” she said with a wheezy laugh. “And moody about it for weeks.” I laughed so hard I nearly dropped the teapot.
She and I grew close quickly. She’d tell me stories about the old days, her battles with health, and how Scott had stepped away from multiple deals just to be home with her.
‘He hides it well,” she said one evening. “But Scott is all heart. He just doesn’t trust people easily.”
I hesitated before asking, “Why me, then? Why let me in?”
She smiled. “Because he’s had a crush on you since before the divorce.”
blinked. “What?”
‘At one of those galas. You were standing by the pastry table, refusing to eat anything because of a food allergy, and he noticed you. Said you had a calm sadness that made him want to understand you.”
I didn’t know what to say.
The next day, I found him outside, trimming the garden with one of the staff. He was dressed casually, his sleeves rolled up, hair tousled, the sunlight making him look far too charming for someone using hedge clippers.
“Is it true?” I asked, walking up to him.
Chapter 11
7:18 pm G
He looked up, confused. “Is what true?”
“That you’ve had a crush on me since the pastry table at that gala.”
He dropped the clippers with a clang. “My mother talks too much.”
“So it is true.”
He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Yes. I saw you, and I remembered you. You looked… like someone I wanted to talk to, but I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He smiled, sheepish. “You were married. And then you disappeared. Until one day, you crashed
into me on a sidewalk in Switzerland.”
I chuckled. “The universe has timing, doesn’t it?”
He nodded. “It does. But please… don’t make it awkward.”
smiled at him, heart fluttering for reasons I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Don’t worry,” I said softly. “It’s not awkward at all. Because… I think I might have a crush on you
