The Grand Lumière Hotel in Paris shimmered with chandeliers and champagne laughter. The Global Business Summit Gala was in full swing — suits, silk gowns, flashes of camera lights.
Inside the kitchen, Maya adjusted her chef coat, her heartbeat wild beneath the crisp white fabric. Tonight she wasn't just cooking — she was proving.
"Service begins in ten minutes," Chef Laurent announced. "Remember, we impress the world tonight."
Maya nodded, focusing on the plates before her.
But her hands trembled slightly. Every cell in her body seemed to whisper one name — Adrian.
---
Upstairs, Adrian stepped into the ballroom. He looked every inch the CEO — black tuxedo, calm expression, eyes that searched without showing it.
But inside, he was anything but calm.
He wasn't here for business. He was here for her.
As he walked through the crowd, a waiter passed by with a tray of tiny gold-topped soufflés. Adrian stopped. The scent — lemon and vanilla — hit him instantly.
He smiled. "Her flavor."When the event's host announced, "Desserts by Chef Maya Sharma, Paris Culinary Exchange,"
Adrian's breath caught.
Maya walked out with her team, carrying a small silver tray. The spotlight brushed her face — confident, radiant, grown.
She didn't see him at first. But as she placed the final dish on the presentation table, she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"Still making soufflés that break hearts, Chef?"
She froze. Slowly, she turned.
There he was — standing just a few feet away, same deep eyes, same half-smile that made her forget the world.
"Adrian…" she breathed.
He stepped closer, his voice soft but certain. "I told you I'd wait."
For a heartbeat, the noise of the gala disappeared — no music, no crowd, just them.I thought you'd moved on," Maya said, her voice trembling.
"I tried," he said simply. "Didn't work."
Her eyes glistened. "Why are you here?"
He smiled faintly. "Because I wanted to taste your dream — and tell you mine still has you in it."Later, when the crowd thinned and the kitchen quieted, Maya found him waiting by the back door. The Paris night was cold, but his presence felt like warmth.
"I'm proud of you," Adrian said softly. "You made it."
Maya looked down, whispering, "You helped me believe I could."
He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "You didn't need me for that, Chef. You just needed to see what I saw in you."
She looked up — their eyes locked — the world faded again.
"I missed you," she whispered.
He stepped closer, voice low. "Then stop saying it like a secret."
Their breaths mingled. The city lights shimmered behind them.
This time, when their lips met, it wasn't hurried or desperate — it was slow, certain, the kind that felt like coming home.When they finally pulled away, Maya laughed softly, tears slipping down. "You're still impossible."
Adrian smiled. "And you're still my favorite chaos."
---
That night, as they walked hand in hand along the Seine, Maya leaned her head on his shoulder.
"I don't know what happens next," she said quietly.
He squeezed her hand. "We figure it out. Together."
The Eiffel Tower sparkled again — brighter than before — and in its golden glow, two souls who had once lost each other finally found their way back.