It's a little after seven in the morning. The bread-making staff has just left. Luca is setting everything up when she comes.

"Morning Chef.*

She smiles like always and he rolls his eyes.

"Don't call me chef when it's just us."

Luca says softly, wiping down the counters to prepare his station as she wraps her own apron around her waist. He watches her with a simple grin. He knows he can't do much, say much when they're at work. It would be unprofessional, even if they know about them. The rest of the staff would start coming in soon. But he can't help it. She's there, she's his, and the kitchen is just so empty for the next half hour.

"Don't look at me like that."

She says without looking at him, preparing her own station.

"Like what?" He feigns innocence.