A BILLIONAIRE'S COMPELLING LOVE

NOT YET FRIENDS?

Chapter 7: Not yet Friends?

Cavier had never been a man to dwell on distractions, let alone an almost stranger. Yet, as he sifted through the meticulous reports of his underlings and reviewed the operations for the week, his focus wavered. His mind drifted back to the fleeting moments he’d shared with Cielle. Her soft-spoken demeanor, the cautious way she carried herself, and the spark of resilience behind her hesitant eyes—she lingered in his thoughts like an unsolved puzzle.

At one point during the day, as he walked into a high-profile meeting, he caught a glimpse of blonde hair across the room. His heart jolted. Without thinking, he turned sharply, ready to call out—but it wasn’t her. Just a random assistant passing by. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head in frustration. What was this spell she’d cast over him?

Back at his desk, his fingers tapped absently against the polished wood. He forced himself to focus, scolding himself for being so easily sidetracked. “She’s just another face in the city,” he muttered under his breath, though he couldn’t quite convince himself of it.

Cavier never expected to be the one initiating communication. It wasn’t his style to reach out to someone first—he was more accustomed to people seeking him out. Yet, with Cielle, things felt different. There was an air of mystery about her, an allure he couldn’t ignore. Though he kept his texts casual and short at first, they were his subtle way of trying to understand her.

Cavier’s First Text:

“Good morning. How’s work?”

Cielle stared at the message, unsure how to respond. She didn’t know why he was texting her, and to be honest, she wasn’t sure if she cared to know. After a few moments of hesitation, she typed a half-hearted reply.

Cielle’s Reply:

“Busy. Yours?”

His response came quickly: “Same.”

The exchange was nothing special—mundane pleasantries that faded into silence after a few lines. Days passed, and each conversation followed the same pattern. He would ask a question or comment about something ordinary, and she would respond with minimal effort. It wasn’t that she disliked him; she just didn’t know what to make of him yet.

But Cavier was persistent.

Cavier’s Texts Over the Week:

“Do you always work at the flower shop?”

“What’s your favorite flower?”

“I saw tulips today and thought of your shop.”

Her answers remained short but slightly less dismissive as the days went by. She found herself replying out of boredom at first, but gradually, she started paying more attention to his words.

-

It was a quiet morning at the flower shop. The usual stream of customers hadn’t yet begun, and Cielle stood behind the counter, absently rearranging a display of roses. Her phone buzzed on the counter beside her, the name Cavier flashing on the screen. She raised an eyebrow in surprise—it wasn’t a text this time.

It was a video call.

For a moment, she debated letting it ring out. Why was he video calling her? The thought of seeing his face, even through a screen, made her hesitate. But curiosity—and boredom—got the better of her. She swiped to answer.

At first, the screen was a blur of motion. Then it steadied, revealing a rather unexpected sight: Cavier, mid-workout, lifting a dumbbell with impressive precision. The camera was positioned on a bench, giving her a clear view of his toned arms straining under the weight. He was wearing a fitted gray tank top that clung to his chest, his hair slightly damp with sweat.

She blinked, startled. He hadn’t even noticed the call had connected.

“Um, hello?” she said cautiously, feeling like an intruder in his private moment.

Cavier froze mid-lift. His head turned toward the phone, and his dark eyes widened in surprise. He quickly set the dumbbell down and picked up the phone.

“Cielle?” he said, his deep voice sounding unusually flustered. “I—uh—this was a mistake.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his rare display of vulnerability. “Clearly.”

“I didn’t mean to call you,” he added, raking a hand through his damp hair. “The phone must’ve slipped or something.”

“Right,” she said, biting back a laugh. “Well, I’ll let you get back to… whatever this is.” She gestured vaguely at the screen, which still showed the gym equipment in the background.

Before he could respond, she hung up.

For a moment, she stood there, staring at the now-dark screen. Then, with a mischievous smile, she reopened the call log, where the video thumbnail still displayed the paused image of him mid-rep. She took a screenshot.

A few minutes later, she sent him a message.

“You mistakenly called me, I think… or did you want to show off?”

She added a smirking emoji and attached the screenshot of his biceps flexing under the strain of the dumbbell.

Cavier didn’t see the message right away. An hour later, he was seated in the back of his sleek black car, reviewing documents on his tablet, when he finally checked his phone. The image was the first thing he saw.

He nearly spat out the coffee he’d been sipping. “What the hell?” he muttered, his driver glancing at him in concern.

“Is everything alright, sir?”

“Fine,” Cavier growled, running a hand over his face as he reread the message. The screenshot stared back at him mockingly. He swore under his breath, his thumb flying over the keyboard as he typed a response.

“It was a mistake. I didn’t mean to call you.”

But before he could hit send, another thought occurred to him. She was teasing him. He smirked slightly, shaking his head as he deleted the message and started over.

“Alright, you caught me. I meant to show off.”

When Cielle saw his response, she laughed aloud, the sound echoing through the empty flower shop.

“Well, mission accomplished,” she replied.

From that moment on, their conversations changed. The awkwardness faded, replaced by an easy rhythm of teasing and banter. They texted more frequently, and the topics became less formal. He asked her about her favorite movies, her opinions on food, even her random pet peeves.

In turn, she asked him about his work, his hobbies, and his taste in music. She learned he preferred whiskey over wine, classical music over modern, and that he hated the sound of people chewing. He discovered she loved sunflowers, hated mornings, and had an irrational fear of pigeons.

Their relationship, once strained and awkward, began to take shape. It wasn’t love—not at all—but it was the foundation of something more than acquaintances.

-

Across the city, Cielle’s day at the restaurant blurred into its usual monotony. She wiped down tables, refilled drinks, and tried to ignore the dull ache in her chest that had appeared ever since Xavier disappeared.

She thought back to his charming smirk and the way his sharp eyes seemed to see right through her. “It’s probably for the best,” she reasoned with herself, though the disappointment lingered. She couldn’t deny that part of her had wanted more from him. His attention had made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t felt in years. But now, he was gone without a word.

Still, her thoughts kept drifting to Cavier. He was nothing like Xavier—reserved, methodical, and commanding in a way that felt less reckless but just as intimidating. She caught herself comparing them: Xavier’s casual charm versus Cavier’s calculated intensity, his rugged edges versus Cavier’s refined sophistication. It was maddening.

“Stop it,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head as if the action could clear her thoughts. “You’re too old to be daydreaming like this.”

But no matter how hard she tried to push the thoughts away, they crept back in. Both men occupied her mind, one with his enigmatic absence and the other with his undeniable presence.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, though she was grateful when her boss, Mr. Grady, left early for once, leaving the restaurant quieter and calmer than usual. As the evening set in, Cielle slipped into her coat and stepped out onto the dimly lit street, her mind already wandering to dinner.

She hugged herself against the cold, mentally running through the meager contents of her fridge. “Maybe just toast,” she thought with a resigned sigh. But as she took another step, a sharp rustling sound behind her made her pause.

Before she could turn to investigate, something heavy came down over her head, plunging her into darkness. Her breath hitched as panic seized her chest.