She Answers A Wrong Number Call, Never Guessing The CEO On The Line Is Destined For Her Heart
The Accidental Call and the Penthouse Invitation
Fa Keller almost didn’t pick up the call. Her thumb hovered over the red reject button as she balanced a tray of half-melted cupcakes in her other hand.
But something made her answer. “Hello,” she said breathlessly, nudging the bakery door open with her hip.
A low commanding voice came through the line, rich like velvet but clipped with irritation. “I need them at my penthouse by 8, not a minute late.”
“And tell Marcus if the flowers aren’t white orchids this time, I’ll fire him myself.” Fay blinked, the door swinging shut behind her.
“Uh, I think you have the wrong number.” There was a pause, then a sharp inhale.
“Who is this?” “Fay. I own Sugar Bloom Bakery on 6th.”
She set the cupcakes on the counter and wiped her hands on her apron. “You called me.”
Another pause, then the voice softened, turning curious. “And you’re not Marcus, unless Marcus wears pink aprons and bakes lemon tarts in his free time?”
“Definitely not.” A laugh spilled through the line, deep, surprised, and real.
“You’re not what I expected.” Fa raised an eyebrow, amused despite herself from a wrong number.,
“Exactly.” A beat then followed.
“I’m looking for someone who can handle intense pressure and short deadlines.” “Think you’re up for the challenge, Fay from Sugar Bloom?”
She tilted her head. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Latchlin Ellis.” The name meant nothing to her.
“Still not answering until I know what you need.” He chuckled again.
“Desserts for a private event tonight. I’ll send a car.” She almost laughed.
“I’m not one of those people you can just command like a butler.” “Good,” he said.
“I hate butlers.” Against every logical bone in her body, Fay said, “Yes.”
By 7:30, Fa stood in the back of a sleek black town car. She stared out the tinted windows as they pulled up to a glittering high-rise on the Upper East Side.
The driver, a man in a suit who didn’t speak, helped her unload her boxes of miniature cakes and handmade macarons. The lobby alone was something out of a movie.
It featured floor-to-ceiling glass and a chandelier like falling stars. A concierge greeted her by name.
“Miss Keller, welcome. Mr. Ellis is expecting you.”, They rode the private elevator in silence.
When the doors opened, Fa stepped into another world. The penthouse looked like it belonged in a billionaire’s magazine spread.
It had marble floors, gold accents, and an entire wall of windows displaying the Manhattan skyline. Standing in front of it was the man himself.
He was sipping something dark from a crystal glass. He was tall, dark-haired, and clean-cut in a tailored navy suit that probably cost more than her bakery’s rent.
His eyes were a stormy gray, sharp and unreadable. “You’re earlier than I thought,” Latchlin said.
His eyes raked over the dessert boxes like he was assessing her soul. “Efficient.”
“And you’re exactly how I imagined someone who calls strangers with demands would look,” she shot back. She set the boxes down carefully on the kitchen island.
He smiled, and it was devastating. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Fa rolled her eyes. “Don’t.”
The tension between them was electric. Even she could feel it, and she didn’t believe in that kind of thing.
Not since her last relationship ended with a post-it note and a stack of unpaid rent. “You made these yourself?” he asked.
He lifted a macaron delicately. “I don’t outsource.”
He tasted it and closed his eyes. “You just became my new addiction.”
Fa’s cheeks flushed. “You’re smooth. Is that part of your CEO training?”
He raised a brow. “So you do know who I am?”
“Nope. But judging by your view, your watch, and your elevator that talks, I’m guessing you’re either a CEO or a Bond villain.” She added that the elevator was very creepy.
He laughed again, this time with genuine amusement. “CEO. Tech. Ellis Innovations.”
“We build platforms for international logistics.” She blinked.
“Sounds boring.” His grin widened.
“It is. That’s why I need desserts.” The party started at 8 sharp.
It filled the penthouse with polished people in expensive suits and glittering dresses. Fay stayed near the kitchen, refilling trays and quietly observing the chaos.
She had no idea why Latchlin had insisted she stay. But she wasn’t about to argue when she could potentially get more clients from it.,
