Chapter 5 #2
It was hilarious, really, because they were the absolute farthest thing from a couple.
Their sheer closeness just naturally confused people, but having grown up together their dynamic was much more like siblings than anything romantic.
You have zero romantic tension with the guy who used to convince you to put a plastic laundry basket on your head and sit in a cardboard box while he dragged you down the hallway making loud rocket-ship noises until the box split in half.
Then, William’s easy demeanor suddenly vanished. He cleared his throat, looking as if he had just remembered a very heavy weight in his briefcase. “Well…” He hesitated, a rare wave of awkwardness washing over him. “I have a… uh… something to tell you.”
Elena frowned at the sudden shift in his tone. “What is it? You look like you're about to read a bad verdict.”
“The investor,” he said slowly, choosing his words with agonizing care. “My other client. He finally agreed to meet you face-to-face.”
Elena immediately straightened up, her exhaustion completely forgotten as excitement took over. “Oh my God, really?”
“Yeah.” William looked down at the floor, suddenly finding his polished leather shoes incredibly fascinating. “He asked to have dinner tonight.”
“Tonight? That’s amazing! Why are you saying it like it’s bad news?” Elena laughed, instantly bouncing up from the couch. “I should go change and start getting ready.”
“Elena, wait…” William rubbed the back of his neck, his knuckles turning white. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea right now.”
She paused, her hands hovering mid-air. “Why not?”
He still refused to meet her eyes. “I’m just worried about you. You’ve been handling everything surprisingly well—the divorce, moving out, all the drama with Kyle. I just want to make sure you’re actually ready to deal with this.”
Elena stared at him, her eyebrows knitting together in pure confusion. It was just a corporate dinner meeting. She had absolutely no idea why William was acting like she was about to march into a war zone without body armor.
“It’s just one guy, Will. Is everything okay?” she asked carefully, taking a step toward him. “Is this investor some shady, dangerous billionaire criminal or something?”
William let out a sharp, breathless laugh that sounded entirely nervous.
“No. Nothing like that. He’s a good guy.” William grabbed his briefcase off the floor with a sudden, jerky movement. “Look, you two were going to have to meet eventually anyway. Let’s just go and get this over with.”
That only made Elena more suspicious.
“Well, that wasn’t ominous at all,” she muttered.
William completely ignored her comment, heading toward the front door at a speed that bordered on a sprint.
“I’ll text you the address,” he called out, shrugging back into his coat. “Be there at eight sharp.”
Elena nodded slowly, tracking his unusually frantic movements. Before opening the door, William paused, leaning down to press a gentle, reassuring kiss to her cheek.
“You’ll be fine,” he said quietly, his tone suddenly heavy with emotion. “I love you, okay? I’m here for you no matter what happens. You know that, right?”
Elena smiled warmly, her suspicion melting into affection. “I know. And I love you too, idiot.”
That finally broke his tension, making him grin properly. A minute later, he disappeared down the hallway, leaving Elena standing in the doorway with her brow furrowed.
Will had definitely been acting strange tonight.
Still, she brushed it off as she closed the door.
William had always been weirdly dramatic over the littlest things.
This was the same man who had once convinced her she was being sued by the city over an unpaid parking ticket, only to reveal hours later it was a prank because she had stolen his fries at lunch.
He was probably just stressed from work.
Turning the lock, she headed to her bedroom to find an outfit, completely oblivious to the ambush waiting for her at eight o'clock.
***
Elena slipped into a deep blue silk gown that draped beautifully over her curves, looking elegant without trying too hard. As she curled her hair in front of the bathroom mirror, her mind wandered to the mystery man of the hour. Who casually buys into a struggling fashion brand on a whim?
She was genuinely thrilled to finally meet him. The man was a hero in her eyes; he’d saved her family's company from ruin.
Her imagination had already painted a picture of him: some distinguished, older gentleman with streaks of silver in his hair, decades of corporate warfare under his belt, and an intimidating amount of money.
Or perhaps he was one of those eccentric billionaire types who collected vintage wine and spoke entirely in cryptic business metaphors.
Either way, tonight was going to be interesting.
Snatching her purse from the counter, she reached for her keys but stopped when her eyes landed on the legal folders William had left behind. They were still spread carelessly across the coffee table.
With a quiet sigh, she walked over and gathered them into her arms. She really shouldn't leave confidential company paperwork lying around. Heading toward the safe storage drawer in her bedroom, she absentmindedly flipped open the top file. Her eyes skimmed the dense legal jargon until they locked onto the very bottom of the final page, right where the primary investor’s signature sat.
C. Evans.
Carter had signed his name exactly like that in college. It was a fast, chaotic scrawl with that distinct, lazy loop at the end.
She shook her head fiercely, snapping herself out of it.
No. Stop it. It was a textbook coincidence.
There was absolutely no way. Wherever Carter was, he was surely doing well—the guy was a genius, after all— but not secret-billionaire-buying-out-fashion-empires successful.
More importantly, he had zero reason to suddenly reappear in her life after all this time.
Snapping the folder shut, she laughed at her own wild imagination and marched out the door.
Still, the uneasy feeling followed her all the way to the restaurant.
Manhattan glowed outside the car windows—all gold lights and blurred movement—but Elena barely noticed any of it.
Her thoughts kept circling back to that messy signature and the strangely guilty way William had behaved earlier.
By the time the car pulled up to the curb, she was already deeply annoyed with herself for overthinking a simple coincidence.
The address William had texted her turned out to be one of those impossibly exclusive Manhattan establishments hidden behind an understated entrance and guarded by men in sharp black suits.
Inside, warm golden light reflected beautifully against dark marble floors while soft jazz drifted through the air.
The entire place smelled faintly of rich vintage wine, polished mahogany, and fresh, expensive flowers.
A hostess greeted Elena politely before leading her deeper into the dining room. “This way, ma’am.”
Elena followed her past candlelit tables and quiet, murmuring conversations until they stopped near a secluded, private corner booth.
The man waiting for her sat facing the opposite direction, one arm resting casually against the back of the leather booth.
Even from behind, something about him felt dangerously familiar.
The broad, commanding set of his shoulders beneath a flawless tailored suit.
The relaxed, leaning posture that somehow still exuded an absolute air of authority.
Her pulse suddenly began to thud harder against her ribs.
The hostess smiled politely. “Your guest has arrived, sir.”
The man turned around slowly.
Elena froze, the air leaving her lungs in a sharp rush.
There was no grey-haired investor. Instead, the man before her was incredibly handsome, his dark hair brushed back to frame a face with sharp, clean features.
His eyes met hers, seeing right through her just like they always used to.
And then he smiled—that soft, sweet expression that crinkled the corners of his eyes, the exact one she had always thought was so adorable.
And God help her, her heart reacted instantly out of pure habit. Just like it always used to.
“Hey, Elena.” He greeted her warmly, his voice gentle—as if he’d never broken her heart into a million pieces.
Carter Evans.