Page 16 of The Sweet Chef and the Corporate Queen

"Mia mentioned you never get lost in New York."

"New York is a grid system," I point out. "These trails are... not that."

"Worried?" His eyes sparkle with challenge.

"Hardly." I study the map, quickly identifying our route marked in red. "Trail 4B. Moderate difficulty, 3.8 miles round trip."

"Impressive map-reading skills."

"Basic literacy," I counter, refusing to acknowledge the compliment. "Where's Mia?"

"Pottery class with Evie and the other kids until noon, then nature art with this afternoon." He shoulders his own pack. "She made me promise to take pictures of any interesting birds we spot."

"Of course she did." The easy rapport he's developed with my daughter still unsettles me.

"Ready to win this thing?" Declan asks.

Despite myself, I feel a competitive smile forming. "Always."

Our trail begins easily enough, a clear path winding through sun-dappled woods. The air smells of pine and earth, cleaner than anything I'm used to in the city. We walk in companionable silence until reaching the first checkpoint, marked by a small wooden box attached to a tree.

"Challenge one," Declan reads from the card inside. "'Using only natural materials found nearby, create a structure that can support this egg one foot above ground for ten seconds.'"

He pulls a raw egg from the box.

"Is your brother always this creative with team-building exercises?" I ask, already scanning the area for suitable materials.

"Jameson lives for this stuff. Last Christmas, he turned family dinner into an escape room experience."

I gather sticks while Declan collects some flat stones and pine needles. We work surprisingly well together, me designing a stable base while he carefully constructs the upper platform. Within ten minutes, we've built a structure that safely cradles the egg.

"Impressive engineering," Declan comments as we snap the required photo proof.

"I built a lot of forts as a kid," I admit, surprising myself with the personal disclosure.

"Jules Sinclair, childhood architect. I can see it."

The next checkpoint challenges us to identify five edible plants. Declan knows them all, of course, but he lets me work through the provided field guide to identify them myself.

"Not bad for a city girl," he says when I correctly distinguish between two similar-looking berries.

"I'm not actually from the city," I find myself saying. "I grew up in a small town in Vermont. Moved to New York after college."

"Vermont, huh? That explains why you can actually walk in those hiking boots. I was half expecting you to show up in heels."

"I do own practical footwear," I say dryly. "Contrary to what you might think, I don't sleep in business suits."

His grin turns mischievous. "What do you sleep in?"

The question catches me off guard, heat rising to my cheeks. "That's hardly appropriate conversation."

"Just making small talk," he says innocently, but his eyes suggest otherwise.

We continue along the trail, successfully completing two more challenges. A riddle that requires finding coordinates on the map and a teamwork exercise involving crossing an imaginary river using stepping stones.

According to the map, the final checkpoint should be just ahead. Our progress has been good—better than I expected—and I find myself actually enjoying the fresh air and physical activity. The competitive part of me is already anticipating victory.

"We should be the first team to finish," I say, checking my watch. "Unless we've been going too slow with these challenges."

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