Claiming Leila

Chapter 5

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Leila did not answer Adrian's email right away.

She read it during breakfast, then again an hour later. By afternoon, she was standing by her apartment window with a cup of tea that had already gone cold, reading it for the third time.

The email was short.

Adrian Kincaid:

The private opening is next Friday. I'd like to confirm your attendance and discuss the details in person.

That was all.

Simple.

Professional.

Yet somehow it felt like he already expected her to agree.

Leila frowned at the screen.

"He is annoying."

Her phone buzzed immediately.

It was Simi.

Simi:

That is not a no.

Leila rolled her eyes.

Leila:

I never said yes.

Simi:

You didn't say no either.

Leila ignored the message.

Instead, she looked outside.

People hurried along the sidewalks.

Cars filled the streets.

The city kept moving, not caring about anyone's problems.

She wished her thoughts were that easy to ignore.

Unfortunately, Adrian Kincaid kept finding his way into them.

By noon, she finally replied.

Leila:

I can attend. Send the details.

His response arrived less than a minute later.

Adrian:

Thank you. My assistant will send everything shortly.

Leila stared at the message.

"Of course."

The next evening, she arrived at the gallery.

The building sat on the Upper East Side and looked exactly how she imagined.

White walls.

Modern artwork.

Expensive furniture.

Guests dressed in outfits that probably cost more than her rent.

Leila adjusted her camera bag.

She was there to work.

Nothing else.

"Miss Okoye."

She turned.

Adrian stood a few feet away.

Dark suit.

Perfect posture.

Calm expression.

Everything about him looked polished.

As usual.

"I'm early," she said.

"So am I."

She glanced around.

"That seems unusual."

A small smile appeared.

"I own the building."

Leila blinked.

"That explains a lot."

The smile grew slightly.

Before either could say more, a woman walked toward them.

She was beautiful.

Tall.

Elegant.

The kind of woman who looked like she belonged on magazine covers.

"Adrian."

The way she said his name told Leila everything she needed to know.

Adrian's expression changed slightly.

"Elena."

So.

The ex-girlfriend.

Interesting.

Elena looked at Leila.

Not warmly.

Not rudely.

Just carefully.

"I didn't know photographers were getting private invitations now."

Leila smiled politely.

"I'm here to work."

"Of course."

The smile Elena gave her never reached her eyes.

Adrian stepped in.

"Miss Okoye is covering the event."

Elena nodded slowly.

"Hmm."

"Leila Okoye," Leila added.

A short silence followed.

"Nice to meet you."

It didn't sound genuine.

Then Elena turned back to Adrian.

"We should talk later."

"Later," Adrian said.

She walked away.

Leila watched her leave.

"Friendly."

"She's not important."

Leila looked at him.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"No."

At least he was honest.

Soon the event began.

Guests moved around the gallery with drinks in their hands.

Some talked about art.

Others talked about money.

Most talked about both.

Leila got to work.

She photographed smiles.

Conversations.

Small reactions.

The little moments people didn't realize they were showing.

Those were always her favorite.

People were most honest when they thought nobody was watching.

Across the room, Adrian spoke with investors and donors.

He moved through conversations easily.

Confident.

Relaxed.

In control.

Every now and then, she noticed him looking her way.

Once.

Twice.

Several times.

She told herself it meant nothing.

Still, she noticed.

While photographing a sculpture, she overheard two men talking nearby.

"Kincaid knows how to make everything look expensive."

The other man laughed.

"That's because everything he touches is expensive."

Leila smiled to herself.

When she stood up, Adrian was watching her again.

The look lasted only a second.

But somehow it made her more aware of herself.

She quickly focused on her camera.

Then her phone buzzed.

Simi.

Simi:

How's the billionaire situation?

Leila glanced across the room.

Unfortunately, Adrian was already looking at her.

Leila:

He's staring again.

The reply came immediately.

Simi:

That means he likes you.

Leila:

Or he's suspicious.

Simi:

Same thing for rich men.

Leila laughed softly.

When she looked up again, Adrian was walking toward her.

Great.

"You seem busy," she said.

"I finished speaking to everyone."

"You spoke to everyone?"

"More than enough people."

Leila lowered her camera.

"So why are you here?"

His answer surprised her.

"I wanted to watch you work."

For a moment, she forgot what to say.

"Why?"

"Because you're good at it."

Leila blinked.

That was unexpected.

"And?"

"And I was right."

"About what?"

"You're even better than your portfolio."

She stared at him.

Then shook her head.

"That almost sounded like a compliment."

"It was a compliment."

"You should practice giving them."

A small warmth entered his eyes.

"You make it difficult."

Leila laughed.

"That sounds like your problem."

"Maybe it is."

For a moment, the noise around them seemed to fade.

Then someone from the foundation called Adrian's name.

The moment broke.

He looked annoyed.

Leila found that funny.

"You should go."

"I suppose I should."

Neither moved right away.

Finally, he nodded and walked away.

Leila watched him join another group.

Then she returned to work.

An hour later, the event ended.

She packed her camera and prepared to leave.

"Do you have a minute?"

Adrian again.

She turned.

"What for?"

"Dinner."

Leila stared at him.

Straight to the point.

She almost respected it.

"That was direct."

"I thought it would save time."

"Maybe your time."

His expression stayed calm.

"Will you say yes?"

She should have said no.

That would have been smarter.

Dinner wasn't dangerous.

But Adrian probably was.

Unfortunately, curiosity was winning.

"Dinner isn't a commitment."

"No."

His eyes stayed on hers.

"But it can be a beginning."

Her heart skipped a beat.

Annoying.

Very annoying.

And judging by his expression, Adrian noticed.

Of course he did.

He waited patiently.

Leila sighed.

"One dinner."

Something softened in his eyes.

"One dinner."

She narrowed her eyes.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch."

"That sounds fake."

"It isn't."

She almost smiled.

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"No."

The answer came immediately.

"I expect you to question it."

That surprised her.

Again.

He reached into his jacket and handed her a card.

"My assistant will send the details."

Leila took it.

"And if I don't come?"

"Then you don't."

Simple.

No pressure.

Somehow that made it harder.

She slipped the card into her bag.

"And if I do come?"

A small pause followed.

Then Adrian smiled.

A real smile.

Not the polite one he used for donors.

"If you come, I'll make sure it's worth your time."

Leila felt her chest tighten.

She hated that answer.

Mostly because she liked it.

"We'll see."

His gaze stayed steady.

"Yes," he said quietly. "We will."

Then he stepped aside and let her leave.

Outside, the cool evening air hit her face.

She walked down the gallery steps with her camera bag on one shoulder and Adrian's card tucked safely in her purse.

She told herself she wasn't interested.

She told herself it was only dinner.

She told herself a lot of things.

The problem was that she wasn't sure she believed any of them.

And inside the gallery, Adrian Kincaid watched her disappear into the crowd.