“Still going strong, as far as I know. Margot’s on a spa weekend with her girlfriends, hence Dad snagging me for work.”
Her meeting up with her dad was normal. They worked together. But the phone conversation from yesterday flicked through my head. Had that been Max? Was it about Margot? Or worse, me?
I ground my teeth and focused on the here and now.
As I cut the scones, Eliza glazed, then we put them in the hot oven.
“Make sure it’s hot, that’s the secret,” my gran always said, tapping the side of her nose.
Once the door was shut, I put a pot of coffee on, and we chatted about Roka and how well the deal was going. Pre-sales were pouring in, and she’d agreed to wear our watch in her next music video and on tour. The ad was already on her socials, and it was driving a ton of sales.
But after a while, our chat stopped. Then, Eliza pressed me against the worktop, slid a hand up my arse, and kissed me for so long, it felt like I was imprinted on the counter.
When we broke apart, her thumb traced a line down my cheek, and I stared into her eyes. It was such an intimate gesture that something inside me cracked open.
This felt real in a way that terrified me. It wasn’t just about our chemistry, it went deeper than that. She made me want to tell her about my fears, about the way I felt like I was drowning most days, but I was faking it until I made it.
The timer saved me from examining that feeling too closely. I pulled out golden, perfect scones while Eliza poured the drinks,and we ate them warm with butter and jam, sitting at my kitchen island in morning light that made everything soft and easy. Eliza closed her eyes with the first bite.
“Your gran knew what she was doing, and so does her granddaughter,” she said, licking butter from her thumb in a way that made me forget my own name.
“Thank you.”
She sipped her coffee. “You must really miss her. Your mum, too.”
“More than you can possibly imagine. But the way to keep them alive? Bake scones. And keep Voss Watches in the family.”
Eliza nodded, picked up her phone, and winced. “I really do have to go now, though.”
“I know.” I didn’t want her to. I wanted to keep her here in my kitchen forever, eating scones and looking at me like I was something worth staying for.
When she finally went to leave, we bumped straight into Amina coming home. I’d clean forgotten they hadn’t met before.
“Amina, this is Eliza,” I said, trying to sound casual and probably sounding anything but.
“Good to meet you.” Amina shook Eliza’s hand, keeping an admirable poker face. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good, I hope.”
“A-stars all the way.”
“Sorry it’s short and sweet, but I have to run.” Eliza’s gaze lingered on me. “Thank you for brunch. The scones were perfect. See you at the airport, if not before?”
After she left, I flopped onto the sofa like a deflated balloon, still able to smell her perfume on my top.
Amina settled into her armchair opposite. “How’s ‘keeping it professional’ going?”
I honked out a laugh that sounded slightly hysterical. “Absolutely acing it, as you can see.”
“What happened to ‘this won’t happen again’?”
“During the week, we’re completely professional.” I knew how ridiculous it sounded.
“And at weekends, you’re completely unprofessional? Goddit.”
“It seems that way.”
She flopped down beside me, her expression softening. “You seem to actually like this woman. Hence I want to point out that you could work together and have a relationship. Office romances happen all the time.” She tilted her head. “What am I missing? Because you look terrified.”
