Page 15 of The Sweet Chef and the Corporate Queen

Jules glances back over her shoulder. "I'm never late, Declan."

"I'm counting on it," I reply, holding her gaze until she turns away.

Once they're out of earshot, my mother gives me a knowing look. "Well, that was interesting."

"What?"

"I've known you your entire life, Declan James Robert Callahan. I recognize that look."

"I don't have a look," I protest, gathering the empty cider mugs.

"You absolutely do. It's the same look your father had when he was trying to convince me to go on our first date."

"It's not like that," I say automatically, though the denial sounds weak even to my own ears.

"No?" Evie's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Then why did you suddenly volunteer to cover Connor's shift for the outdoor challenge? You haven't left your kitchen during a retreat in three years."

I shrug, trying for nonchalance. "Being helpful."

"Mmhmm." She pats my cheek affectionately. "Just remember, that woman carries her armor for a reason. If you're planning to get past it, be gentle."

"Mom, I'm not planning anything."

"Of course not." She stands, straightening her cardigan.

Chapter Five

Jules

"The objective is simple," Jameson Callahan announces to our gathered executive team, his boundless energy practically vibrating in the crisp morning air. "Each pair will follow their designated trail using this map and compass, solving the challenges at each checkpoint. First team to reach the final destination wins bragging rights and a special dinner prepared by our very own Chef Declan."

My gaze drifts to where Declan stands at the edge of the group, looking entirely different from the kitchen chef I've come to know. In hiking boots, cargo pants, and a fitted thermal shirt with the lodge logo, he's the picture of outdoorsy confidence. He catches me looking and grins, raising his water bottle in a small salute.

I quickly turn my attention back to Jameson's instructions.

"Each team will have one Mountain Laurel Lodge staff member for safety and one Sinclair Enterprises executive," Jameson continues. "The staff members know these trails but are instructed to guide only if safety is at risk. This is about your problem-solving skills, not ours."

Andrea sidles up beside me, nudging my arm. "Ten bucks says you get paired with the hot chef."

"Don't be ridiculous," I mutter, though my stomach does a small flip at the thought.

"Team assignments!" Jameson consults his clipboard with exaggerated formality. "Mr. Rothstein with Liam Callahan. Ms. Taylor with Max Callahan. Ms. Rivera with yours truly..."

As Jameson continues reading names, my suspicion grows. When he finally announces, "And Ms. Sinclair with Declan Callahan," Andrea's smugly whispered "Called it" confirms what I already sensed. This pairing is no coincidence.

The teams disperse to collect their equipment. I approach Declan with what I hope is professional detachment.

"Fancy meeting you here," he says, handing me a backpack. "Your trail supplies: water, first aid kit, snacks, rain poncho."

"Rain poncho? The forecast said clear skies."

He glances toward the distant mountains. "Mountain weather changes fast. Better prepared than soaked."

"I thought you were supposed to be a chef, not a meteorologist."

"Mountain living requires multiple skill sets." He offers our map. "Would you like to lead navigation? I hear you're excellent with directions."

"Who told you that?" I ask, accepting the map.

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