Page 32 of The Sweet Chef and the Corporate Queen

I can't help but smile. "That does sound boring."

"We're leaving tomorrow," she says, her voice small. "I don't want to go."

"I know, kiddo. I don't want you to go either."

She leans against my arm, her small presence both comforting and heartbreaking. "Will you at least make us breakfast? Mom said we have to leave right after, but I want your blueberry pancakes one more time."

"Of course. Special chef's breakfast for my favorite sous chef."

She beams up at me, then suddenly throws her arms around my neck in a fierce hug. "I'm going to miss you, Declan."

I hug her back, a lump forming in my throat. "I'll miss you too, Mia. But hey, like I said, maybe you and your mom can visit again sometime."

She pulls back, her expression serious. "Mom's sad."

"What do you mean?"

"She gets all quiet and sighs a lot." Mia kicks her feet against the bench. "And she kept my picture of us in the kitchen. The one I drew with the pancakes? She put it in her planner thing where she keeps important stuff."

I try to process this small but significant detail. "Your mom kept your drawing of us?"

Mia nods enthusiastically. "She thought I was sleeping, but I saw her looking at it for a really long time last night. Then she did that face."

"What face?"

"The one where she's thinking super hard about something. Like when she's deciding if I can have a sleepover." Mia looksup at me with complete seven-year-old earnestness. "I think she likes you, but she's being weird about it."

Before I can process this revelation, the door opens again.

"Mia!" Jules appears, her expression a mixture of exasperation and embarrassment. "I told you not to bother Declan. He's working."

"It's fine," I assure her, standing. "We were just saying goodnight."

Our eyes meet briefly, and I catch a flicker of the same vulnerability I saw during our confrontation. She looks away first.

"It's past your bedtime, young lady," she tells Mia. "Say goodnight to Declan."

"Goodnight, Declan," Mia says dutifully, giving me one last quick hug before joining her mother.

"Goodnight, Chef Mia," I respond, trying to keep my tone light. "See you at breakfast."

Jules hesitates, opening her mouth as if to say something, then closes it again. "Thank you for dinner," she says finally, formal and distant. "It was excellent."

"Just doing my job," I reply, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from my voice.

She flinches slightly, then turns to go, guiding Mia back inside with a hand on her shoulder.

After they're gone, I stare at the closed door, Liam's words echoing in my mind.

The question isn't what Jules should give up. It's what you're willing to fight for.

Chapter Eleven

Jules

The morning light fills our suite as I fold Mia's clothes into her suitcase. Every movement is practiced, efficient. The same way I've packed for countless business trips. Yet my hands keep faltering today.

"Mom! Are you ready?" Mia bursts from the bathroom, already dressed in her favorite blue outfit. "Declan's making special pancakes!"

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