THE NEXT MORNING
913 Words
By nine in the morning, I had learned that the internet had far too much free time.
There were articles.
Photographs.
Speculation.
And, apparently, several people who had decided that my entire romantic history was their business.
I closed my laptop.
“This is ridiculous.”
Sophie looked up from her coffee.
“You're trending.”
“I don't want to be trending.”
“Most people do.”
“I don't.”
She took another sip.
“You're also being called the mystery woman.”
“I hate that even more.”
“You could be called worse things.”
“Sophie.”
“I'm just saying.”
I reached for my phone.
There were more messages.
Most were from people I barely knew.
A few were from colleagues.
One was from my mother.
I ignored that one.
Then my phone rang.
Adrian.
I stared at his name.
Sophie noticed.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Don't.”
She smiled and got up.
“I'll give you privacy.”
“You're sitting three feet away.”
“I'll turn around.”
I answered.
“Hello?”
“Good morning.”
His voice sounded calm.
Almost suspiciously calm.
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Have you seen what's happening?”
“I've seen enough.”
“I'm sorry.”
I frowned.
“For what?”
“You didn't ask for this.”
Neither had he.
I looked down at the photograph on my screen.
“No, I didn't.”
“I've instructed our communications team to issue a statement.”
“About us?”
“About the dinner.”
I laughed softly.
“There is no us.”
There was a pause.
“I know.”
Something about the way he said it made me quiet.
“I mean professionally,” I clarified.
“Of course.”
Another pause.
Then he said, “I don't want this affecting your work.”
“It won't.”
“I know you're capable.”
I smiled.
“That's almost another compliment.”
“I seem to be giving you those frequently.”
“You are.”
“I'll have to stop.”
“Probably.”
Neither of us hung up.
There was a strange silence.
Not awkward.
Just… comfortable.
Then Adrian spoke.
“Are you free tonight?”
I blinked.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I have a dinner.”
I waited.
“With an investor.”
“Oh.”
“And I need someone who understands the campaign.”
I smiled.
“You're asking me to work at dinner again?”
“I'm asking you to help me.”
“That sounds suspiciously like work.”
“It is.”
“Then send me the documents.”
He laughed.
“Fine.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Vale.”
“Goodbye, Lilian.”
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
Sophie slowly turned around.
“So…”
“No.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You were about to.”
She smiled.
“I was just going to say that your boss seems very interested in your professional expertise.”
I threw a cushion at her.
She laughed.
By lunchtime, the headlines had started changing.
The company had released a statement confirming that Adrian and I were working together on the international campaign.
Nothing romantic.
Nothing personal.
Just business.
It worked.
Mostly.
People moved on to another scandal within a few hours.
I was relieved.
Then I received an invitation.
Not from Adrian.
From the Milan team.
They wanted me to attend a private industry event the following weekend.
The kind of event that could lead to new contacts.
New contracts.
New opportunities.
I accepted immediately.
My career was moving.
I wasn't going to let gossip stop that.
That evening, Adrian's dinner really was about business.
Mostly.
The investor spoke for nearly an hour about expansion plans while Adrian listened.
I sat beside him, taking notes.
Occasionally, our eyes met.
Nothing more.
But I noticed something.
He seemed more relaxed around me than he had been a month ago.
And I was beginning to relax around him too.
At one point, the investor left the table to take a phone call.
I leaned toward Adrian.
“You actually like these dinners?”
“No.”
“Then why do them?”
“Because money doesn't invest itself.”
I laughed.
“That might be the most Adrian Vale answer possible.”
He looked at me.
“You've been studying me.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Why unfortunately?”
“Because you're complicated.”
He smiled.
“So are you.”
I looked at him.
“What makes you think that?”
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he studied me with an expression I couldn't quite understand.
“I don't know yet.”
Something about that answer stayed with me.
Neither of us noticed the woman standing across the restaurant.
She had been watching us for several minutes.
She didn't approach.
She simply looked at Adrian.
Then at me.
And walked away.
Adrian never saw her.
But I did.
For some reason, the way she looked at us made the back of my neck prickle.
I dismissed it.
There were always strangers at restaurants.
There was no reason to think anything of it.
I had no idea that someone else had just started paying attention to us.
And this time, it wasn't the internet.
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