My demanding CEO

Chapter 11: I'm glad I found it.

Tiara’s POV

It was Saturday. I woke up to sunlight peeking through my curtains and the faint buzz of traffic outside. I stretched, just as my phone rang. When I saw the caller ID, I quickly picked up.

“Hello, sir. How are you today?” I asked. It was the elderly man from the other day.

“Hello, dear. I’m fine. I hope you’re still coming over.”

“Please send me your address, sir. I’ll drop by.”

He ended the call, and a few minutes later, I received a message with the address. I got up to take a quick shower.

Afterward, I pulled on a casual but neat outfit—light jeans, a white blouse, and my favorite beige flats. Just friendly tea and cake, I reminded myself. No pressure. Still, I put in a bit more effort than usual with my hair.

Ava raised an eyebrow as she saw me getting ready.

“So you’re going,” she said, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing smile.

“Don’t start,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “It’s just a visit.”

“To a stranger’s house... who happens to have a single grandson,” she teased.

I tossed a pillow at her, laughing. “Wish me luck instead of teasing me.”

She caught the pillow midair. “Okay, okay—good luck. Don’t fall in love too fast.”

---

The old man’s house wasn’t far—a cozy brick bungalow nestled on a quiet street lined with blooming flowers and neatly trimmed hedges. I rang the doorbell, half-expecting to turn back at the last second.

The door opened almost immediately.

“Well, look who kept her promise!” the old man beamed. He wore a cream cardigan and smelled faintly of lavender soap.

“I’m glad I found it,” I smiled.

He ushered me inside. The scent of warm vanilla and cinnamon drifted through the air. The living room was warm and inviting, filled with books, framed photographs, and sunlight streaming in through gauzy curtains.

“Please, sit,” he said, motioning to a comfy armchair. “I’ve made chamomile tea and my late wife’s apple-cinnamon cake recipe.”

I settled into the chair as he disappeared into the kitchen, humming softly. A few minutes later, he returned with a tray of tea, two cups, and a generous slice of cake.

“Wow,” I said after taking a bite. “This is amazing.”

He smiled proudly. “Thank you.”

There was a pause. I took a sip of tea, savoring the warmth.

“So... about your grandson?” I asked, half-curious, half-awkward.

The old man’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, yes. He’s running a bit late, but he’ll be here soon. He drops by every Saturday.”

I nodded slowly, nerves bubbling in my chest.

As we chatted about his garden, his younger days, and the weather, I heard the faint sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

“He’s here,” the old man said, rising with effort and moving to the door.

I stood, trying to steady my nerves. Footsteps approached.

And then, the front door opened.

My heart did a little flip.

In walked a tall man with familiar features—dark eyes, a confident stride, and a sleek black jacket. The kind of face that looked far too familiar.

The old man grinned. “Asher, come in. I want you to meet someone.”

I froze.

Asher.

He froze too, eyes locking onto mine.

We both blinked.

“You?” we said in unison.

The old man looked between us, completely confused. “You two... know each other?”