13 | ☕The CEO Who Asked for Dinner. and Her Sanity ☕ #2
It was a weak attempt at humour, a lifeline in a sea of confusion. She could feel the awkwardness in her voice, and yet she kept talking, trying to deflect the suffocating tension between them.
Maybe if I joke about it, he'll back off.
But that was wishful thinking, wasn't it?
Atlas didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow.
His expression was the same—utterly unreadable, like a perfect mask of composure.
If he felt any amusement or confusion at her joke, it certainly didn't show.
Instead, he simply signed again, his movements fluid and precise, as always, but now with an air of finality to them.
She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. "Fine," she said finally, her voice still carrying the same level of incredulity. "But let's get one thing straight. No five-star restaurants, and no weird fancy food, okay? If you try to make me eat anything with truffles, I'll walk out, and—"
Atlas raised a hand, cutting her off with a single smooth gesture that made her heart beat just a little faster.
"You won't."
Anya blinked, trying to shake herself out of the daze.
"Whatever, Valtieri. Pick me up at seven. And don't be late," she said, her voice much sharper than she intended.
She was doing everything she could to cover up the sudden rush of emotions that had surged through her.
Her hands were clammy, her pulse quickening.
He didn't respond with words. Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as if he was saying, I'll be there. And then—just like that—he turned on his heel and walked toward the door. The way he moved was fluid, like water, never rushing but always sure of itself.
Her eyes flicked to Kaia, who was practically vibrating with excitement, her hands clasped in front of her chest like she was about to burst into song.
"OH MY GOD, ANYA! DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?!" Kaia's voice was practically a squeal as she leaned forward, her eyes wide in disbelief. "I can't believe it! You're actually going to dinner with the Atlas Valtieri, the guy who makes women swoon just by walking into a room."
Anya's shoulders sagged in defeat. "It's not a date, Kaia. He asked me to dinner, not for a date. And I'm just... I don't know what I'm doing. This is so messed up."
Kaia snorted. "You've already been doing that for weeks. Now you just get to do it with a side of steak or whatever rich people eat."
"I'm not sure I'm exactly thrilled about it," Anya replied dryly, crossing her arms. "It's not like I've been dreaming of dining with a brooding, silent CEO who owns half the city. It's a little... intimidating, don't you think?"
Kaia grinned widely, leaning over the counter as if she were about to impart some major life wisdom.
"That's what makes it so exciting! Look at him—he's powerful, mysterious, and let's face it, you're the only one who seems to be completely immune to his charm. It's like a power play, Anya. And you're in the middle of it."
Anya groaned and rubbed her temples. "I don't need any more 'power plays' in my life. What I need is to survive this dinner without embarrassing myself in front of the most intimidating man I've ever met. Seriously, Kaia, what is wrong with me? Why did I agree to this?"
Her best friend didn't give her any sympathy, though.
Instead, she threw her hands up in the air, exasperated.
"Anya! You have to admit, this is a huge deal. You can't just walk away from a dinner invitation from him. You have to go. I mean, who doesn't want to know what Atlas Valtieri is really like?"
Anya leaned back against the counter, folding her arms across her chest.
Her mind kept looping back to that moment when Atlas had signed to her.
There was something so direct about it. No small talk.
No pretence. Just a clear, almost unspoken command—Dinner.
You. Me. Tonight. It had been so... sure.
She hadn't been able to argue with it. She wasn't even sure she wanted to.
"I don't know what I'm getting into, Kaia," Anya muttered, her voice quieter this time. "What if this is all some weird, silent game? What if he's just messing with me? I don't get it. Why would someone like him even want to spend time with someone like me?"
Kaia raised an eyebrow, as if she were waiting for Anya to catch on to something.
"I think that's exactly the point. You're different. He doesn't want anyone else. Not all these women who fawn over him. You're the only one who doesn't care about his money or his power. You're the only one who sees him for who he really is."
Anya looked at Kaia, still not entirely convinced, but there was a small part of her—an uncomfortable part—that couldn't help but feel Kaia might be onto something.
Maybe that was why she'd agreed to this dinner.
Maybe she wasn't just curious about Atlas's motives; maybe, just maybe, she was curious about him.
The real him. The man behind the silence.
"I don't even know what I'm going to wear," Anya muttered, glancing at the clock. It was still hours until seven, but the thought of the upcoming evening made her jittery. "I mean, do I dress fancy? Casual? What the heck does one wear to dinner with a CEO?"
"You wear whatever makes you feel like you," Kaia said with a shrug, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
"You're not trying to impress him. You're just going to dinner with a guy who happens to be a billionaire. So, just go with what feels right. If he's really interested, he'll like you for who you are."
Anya looked at her best friend, exhaling deeply as she thought about it. She wanted to believe Kaia's words. She really did. But the thought of being around Atlas again, having to face that intense, unreadable gaze, was enough to make her stomach twist in knots.
She didn't know what she was getting into. She didn't know why he'd chosen her. And for the first time in a long while, Anya wasn't sure how she was supposed to handle it.
But one thing was for sure: this dinner? It wasn't going to be like anything she'd ever experienced.
And she wasn't sure whether that was a good or a bad thing.