Chapter 52 Until Next Time
Until Next Time
The skyline glowed behind him as Jaxon stepped through the polished glass doors of Lotus Prime Steakhouse.
A place that whispered luxury in the details—the marble floors, the glimmering chandeliers, the low hum of string instruments drifting through the air.
He straightened the collar of his shirt and followed the hostess up the grand double staircase to the private second-floor dining area, where the partners were already beginning to gather around a long mahogany table overlooking the rest of the restaurant.
Everything about the space was meant to impress—from the white linen tablecloths to the view of the city through the massive windows behind them.
But none of that compared to what this night meant.
This was his moment. His hard-earned redemption.
From the ruins of heartbreak and self-destruction to being named partner at one of the most respected financial firms in the Southeast.
And he felt it. All of it. The pride. The weight. The gratitude. It sat in his chest like a quiet storm.
As dinner went on, conversations flowed around him—market trends, portfolio performance, jokes only men in ties would find funny—but Jaxon found himself quiet.
Reflective. Every few minutes, he glanced down at the main dining room below, eyes subtly scanning for a familiar face he wasn’t even sure he wanted to see.
Forty-five minutes. No sign of her.
He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he saw Sara. Or Claire. Or both. He just knew he had to look.
Two hours into dinner, the table was winding down—dessert plates cleared, laughter mellowing. Jaxon took one last sip of his bourbon, glanced down at the restaurant floor one more time…
And there she was.
Sara. Sitting at a four-top in the middle of the dining room, her hair pinned up in that effortlessly elegant way she always wore it.
She smiled up at him—warm, proud, knowing.
Next to her sat an older gentleman. An empty seat.
And across from them, a woman with silver hair who carried the same sharp beauty he remembered from old photos.
His heart skipped.
He signaled the waiter, subtle and calm, pointing to Sara’s table.
“Don’t disturb them,” he said quietly. “Just… make sure they’re taken care of.”
The waiter nodded, understanding more than the words alone. Then he walked off.
Jaxon stood with the rest of the group, shaking hands, exchanging thanks, stepping back into the night air as if it were just another Friday. But when he reached the foot of the stairs, he turned back for one last glance.
And saw her.
Claire.
She had taken the empty seat. Her posture still elegant, her smile still capable of breaking him in half. She hadn’t noticed him. Not yet. But Sara had—rising from the table and hurrying up the opposite staircase just in time to find an empty dining space.
He was already gone.
Jaxon reached the door, turned back, and caught Sara at the top. They locked eyes.
He lifted his hand in a silent goodbye.
A thank-you. A maybe one day.
She smiled, soft and bittersweet, and nodded back.
By the time Claire turned to see who Sara was waving at, Jaxon was already on the sidewalk—his back to the building, his past, his story. Just another man walking into the night.
Back downstairs, the waiter approached their table.
“Are you Sara?” he asked gently.
“I am… is something wrong?” she replied, startled.
“Not at all. The gentleman from upstairs asked me to take care of everything for your table. Dinner’s covered.”
Sara blinked. “Only he would do something like that.”
“And he asked me to give you this.” He handed her a neatly folded napkin, edges creased, words written in strong pen strokes:
"Thank you. Have a great dinner. Until next time – Jax."
Claire, confused but curious, leaned in. “Who’s it from?”
The older man at the table—her father—raised his brow. “Wait, who paid for our meal?”
The waiter double-checked the ticket. “J. Stone.”
Claire’s face fell.
Her breath caught.
Claire stood so fast her chair scraped against the floor. She shoved through the tables, flung the restaurant door open, and searched the crowded sidewalk with frantic eyes.
But he was gone.
And all she could do was breathe heavy in the empty space where he used to be.
By the time she returned to the table, her voice trembled. “I can’t believe he was that close. And I didn’t know.”
“Who was it, sweetie?” her father asked.
“That was Jaxon.” Claire’s voice rattled.
Her mother’s eyes widened. “The Jaxon?”
Sara sat silently, eyes cast toward the napkin still in her hand.
Claire turned to her, eyes wet. “What’s he doing here?”
“He just became a partner,” Sara said quietly. “Tonight’s his celebration dinner. I catered his promotion event yesterday.”
Claire froze. “That was the event you asked me to help with?”
“You told me you had plans with Travis. I didn’t know it was him, Claire.”
Claire’s voice cracked as she asked, “Is there something going on between you two?”
“No,” Sara snapped. “Before last night, the last time I saw him… he was standing in the driveway. Watching us leave the island.”
Claire looked down at the napkin again.
Until next time.
Her hands trembled.
Because now she wasn’t sure what she feared more—
That he meant it.
Or that he didn’t.