The Life we never Planned

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

HER POV

"That's what I wanted to hear."

I smiled and opened the file again.

For the next few hours, we worked.

And I mean actually worked.

There was no flirting.

No unnecessary small talk.

Just numbers, contracts, suppliers, timelines, and several disagreements.

The chairman questioned almost everything.

I defended almost everything.

At one point, he leaned back in his chair and looked at me.

"You don't give up easily."

"Neither do you."

"I've noticed."

We continued.

By eleven, the supplier problem had turned into a completely different discussion about distribution.

By eleven-thirty, we were arguing over whether expanding into three markets at once was too aggressive.

"It's manageable," I said.

"It's risky."

"Risk is part of business."

"Unnecessary risk isn't."

"I don't consider it unnecessary."

He looked at me.

"Why?"

"Because if we wait too long, someone else will take the opportunity."

He was quiet for a moment.

Then he nodded.

"Fair."

That one word surprised me.

He didn't agree often.

I looked at the clock.

12:17 p.m.

I hadn't realized how long we'd been talking.

The chairman closed the file.

"Let's continue after lunch."

I gathered my documents.

"Okay."

"You can leave."

I stood.

Then he added, "Come with me."

I stopped.

"Where?"

"Lunch."

I looked at him.

"I have food at the office."

"You've been sitting here since nine."

"So?"

"So you're eating lunch."

"I can eat at my desk."

He gave me a look.

I sighed.

"Fine."

---

We didn't go to a crowded restaurant.

Instead, he took me to a quiet restaurant a few minutes from the office.

The place was elegant without being unnecessarily flashy.

We sat across from each other.

For the first few minutes, we talked about the expansion.

Then he put his menu down.

"Can I ask you something?"

I looked up.

"About the business?"

"No."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Then what?"

"You."

I immediately became cautious.

"That's vague."

He almost smiled.

"What do you do when you're not working?"

I thought about it.

"Travel."

"Anywhere specific?"

"Anywhere interesting."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the answer you're getting."

He laughed softly.

I wasn't expecting that.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're laughing."

"I didn't know you could be difficult outside business."

"I didn't know you were curious outside business."

"Maybe I am."

I looked down at my glass.

"What else?"

"What?"

"You're asking questions. Continue."

He considered it.

"Family."

My expression changed before I could stop it.

He noticed.

"You're close to them?"

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

He didn't push immediately.

"Any siblings?"

"Yes."

"Older or younger?"

"Older."

"Brothers? Sisters?"

I hesitated.

"Both."

He nodded.

"Are you close to them?"

"No."

There was something about the way he looked at me that made me uncomfortable.

Not because he was judging me.

Because he wasn't.

He was simply listening.

I picked up my glass.

"Why are you asking?"

"Because I want to know."

"Why?"

He held my gaze.

"Because we're going to be working together for a while."

I wasn't convinced that was the whole answer.

But I let it go.

He changed the subject.

"What made you start your company?"

That question was easier.

"I wanted something that belonged to me."

"Nothing else?"

"Financial independence."

"You're already financially independent."

"Now."

He nodded.

"How long did it take?"

"Years."

"And you did it alone?"

"Mostly."

"Why mostly?"

"Because nobody does anything completely alone."

He smiled.

"That's a surprisingly humble answer."

"I'm not humble."

"I know."

I laughed.

For some reason, the conversation felt easier now.

Then he asked, "Were you always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Independent."

I shrugged.

"Probably."

"Even as a child?"

"I don't remember."

He studied me.

I frowned.

"What?"

"You're avoiding the question."

"Maybe I don't want to answer it."

He nodded immediately.

"Okay."

No argument.

No pressure.

Just okay.

That caught me off guard.

Most people would have asked again.

He didn't.

We ate in silence for a moment.

Then he asked, "Do you ever want a family of your own?"

My hand paused around my fork.

That was different.

"That's personal."

"Yes."

I looked at him.

"Why are you asking?"

"Curiosity."

I stared at him for a few seconds.

Then looked away.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I don't know."

He didn't push.

I appreciated that.

I took a sip of water.

"What about you?"

His expression became unreadable.

I hadn't expected him to answer.

Instead, he asked, "What do you think?"

"I think you don't answer personal questions."

A small smile appeared on his face.

"Maybe you're learning me too."

I smiled.

"Maybe."

For the first time since we'd met, lunch didn't feel like a business meeting.

It felt like two people simply sitting across from each other, slowly figuring out who the other person was.

And I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing.

But I didn't hate it.