Elliot Voss stood at the window of his penthouse office, the Manhattan skyline a glittering distraction that did nothing to quiet his thoughts.
The city hummed below, a restless pulse of lights and ambition, but all he could think about was Lila Harper—her flour-dusted cheek, her nervous laugh, the way her eyes had locked onto his in the kitchen yesterday, close enough that he'd almost kissed her. Almost.
He'd replayed that moment a hundred times, cursing Mrs. Delaney's interruption and his own hesitation.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. This wasn't him.
He didn't get distracted, didn't let feelings creep into the carefully ordered world he'd built at VossTech.
Three years ago, Cassandra had shattered his trust, leaving him with a broken engagement and a vow to keep his heart locked away.
Work was safe—code, deals, numbers. Lila was the opposite: warm, unpredictable, a spark that could burn down his defenses.His phone buzzed on the desk, pulling him back. A text from his CFO: Board meeting tomorrow. Merger concerns growing. Be ready.
He groaned, tossing the phone down.
The merger with a rival AI firm was a high-stakes gamble, one his board was increasingly skeptical about.
He needed focus, not daydreams about a maid who made tarts that tasted like home.
The office door clicked open, and Mrs. Delaney poked her head in.
"Mr. Voss, Lila's here for her shift. She's in the kitchen, prepping for that exam of hers. Shall I send her up with coffee?"
"No," he said, too quickly.
"I'll go down." Mrs. Delaney's eyebrows rose, a knowing glint in her eyes, but she nodded and vanished.
Elliot shook his head.
The woman was too perceptive for her own good.
He found Lila in the kitchen, her dark curls tied back, her hands wrist-deep in dough. The air smelled of yeast and roasted garlic, and that damn cherry-red mixer whirred softly on the counter.
She hadn't noticed him yet, her focus on rolling out a thin crust, her lips pursed in concentration.
He leaned against the doorway, watching her.
She was beautiful—not in the polished, calculated way of the women in his world, but in a real, unguarded way that made his chest ache.
"Practicing again?" he said, breaking the silence.Lila jumped, nearly dropping her rolling pin.
"Elliot! God, you're like a ninja." She laughed, brushing flour from her hands, but her cheeks flushed pink.
"Yeah, more exam prep. I'm tweaking the tart recipe. Gotta make it perfect."
"It's already perfect," he said, stepping closer.
"I'm still dreaming about that last one.
"Her blush deepened, and she looked away, tucking a curl behind her ear.
"Flattery won't get you free food, you know."
"Worth a shot," he said, grinning.
He pulled out a stool at the island, settling in like it was the most natural thing in the world. "How's the prep going? Nervous?"
"Terrified," she admitted, her hands stilling on the dough.
"The exam's in four days, and I keep second-guessing everything.
What if I choke? What if they hate it? What if—" She stopped, biting her lip.
"Sorry. You don't need to hear my panic spiral."
"I want to," he said, surprising himself with the intensity of it.
"Talk to me, Lila. What's got you so worried?"
She hesitated, her hazel eyes searching his face like she was weighing whether to trust him.
"It's… everything. This exam is my shot, but I'm just a maid with no training. Everyone else probably went to fancy prep schools or worked in real kitchens. And even if I get in, tuition's a fortune. I'm saving every penny, but it's not enough without a scholarship."
He nodded, his jaw tightening.
He hated the doubt in her voice, the way she diminished herself.
"You're not just a maid," he said, echoing his words from yesterday.
"You're a chef. A damn good one. And you're going to nail this exam."
Her lips curved into a small, shy smile.
"You sound so sure."
"I am," he said, leaning forward.
"I've seen you work. You've got something they can't teach—heart. That's what makes your food special."
Her eyes softened, and for a moment, the kitchen felt like it was just them, the world outside fading away.
"Thanks, Elliot,"
she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "That… means a lot."He wanted to say more, to tell her how she'd gotten under his skin, how he hadn't felt this alive in years. But before he could, the doorbell chimed, sharp and intrusive.
Lila flinched, her smile fading.
"I'll get it," she said, wiping her hands on her apron.
"No, stay," he said, standing.
"You're in the zone. I've got it."
He headed to the door, his mood souring as he saw Cassandra through the peephole. She stood in a tailored coat, her blonde hair perfect, her expression all business.
He opened the door, bracing himself. "Cassandra. Twice in one week. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
She breezed past him, her heels clicking on the marble.
"Don't play coy, Elliot. We need to discuss the merger. The board's getting restless, and I hear they're questioning your focus."
Her eyes flicked toward the kitchen, where the faint hum of the mixer carried. "Distracted, are we?"
He crossed his arms, his patience thin.
"My focus is fine. Say what you came to say and go.
"Her lips curved, but there was no warmth in it. "You're slipping, darling. Spending your days with the help instead of closing deals? People are talking."
She stepped closer, her voice lowering.
"I know you, Elliot. You're lonely. But slumming it with a maid won't fix that."
His jaw clenched, anger flaring.
"Watch it, Cassandra. Lila's not your business."
Her eyebrows arched, a glint of triumph in her eyes.
"Lila, is it? First-name basis already. How… cozy."
She tilted her head, studying him.
"Be careful, Elliot. You're playing with fire, and you know how that ends."
He took a step toward her, his voice low and hard.
"You don't get to lecture me about fire. You burned that bridge three years ago."
Her smile faltered, but she recovered quickly, smoothing her coat.
"I'm trying to help you. The board's watching, and so am I. Don't let your little crush cost you everything."
She turned toward the door, pausing to glance back.
"I'll see you at the board meeting. Focus, Elliot."
She left, the door clicking shut like a guillotine. Elliot stood there, his fists clenched, her words echoing.
She wasn't wrong—the board was restless, and his distraction could cost him.
But Lila wasn't a distraction. She was… something else.
Something he couldn't let go.
He returned to the kitchen, where Lila was sliding a tart into the oven, oblivious to the storm Cassandra had left behind.
She looked up, her smile tentative. "Everything okay? You look like you just argued with a tax auditor."
He forced a laugh, leaning against the counter.
"Something like that. Just… business."
He didn't want to tell her about Cassandra, not yet.
Not when she was already carrying the weight of her exam.She nodded, but her eyes narrowed, like she sensed he was holding back.
"Well, this tart's gonna take twenty minutes. Want to help me clean up while it bakes? Or are you too fancy for dishes?"
"Never too fancy for you," he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Her eyes widened, and he cursed himself, grabbing a sponge to cover the moment.
"I mean, for dishes. Let's do this."
They washed dishes side by side, their elbows brushing in the cramped space by the sink.
Every touch was electric, and he caught her stealing glances, her cheeks pink.
When the tart was done, she pulled it out, the golden crust fragrant with garlic and basil.
"Be honest," she said, cutting a slice and offering it to him.
He took a bite, the flavors bursting—tangy, creamy, bright.
"Lila," he said, swallowing.
"This is better than last time. You're gonna kill it."Her face lit up, a grin spreading.
"You think? I was worried the garlic was too much."
"It's perfect," he said, setting the plate down. He stepped closer, unable to stop himself. "You're perfect."
Her breath hitched, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable.
"Elliot, I…" She trailed off, her hands twisting in her apron.
"We shouldn't. You're my boss."
"I know," he said, his voice rough.
He reached out, tucking a curl behind her ear, his fingers lingering.
"But I can't stop thinking about you."
Her lips parted, and for a moment, he thought she'd close the distance.
But she stepped back, her expression torn. "I need to focus on the exam," she said, her voice shaky.
"And you… you've got your world. I don't belong in it."
"You do," he said, the words fierce.
"You belong anywhere you want to be."
She shook her head, a sad smile tugging at her lips.
"I wish it was that simple."
She untied her apron, setting it on the counter.
"I should go. Thanks for… everything."
She left the kitchen, and he let her go, his heart pounding.
Cassandra's warning echoed, but it wasn't the board or the merger that scared him.
It was Lila—how much he wanted her, and how much he stood to lose if he let her slip away.