Dinner with Daisies
728 Words
Georgia tried to focus on work the next day, but her mind kept wandering back to last night—the way he appeared on her street as though conjured from the shadows, the way his hand caught her again, saving her from another fall.
And most of all, the way he whispered, “Let them talk.”
His words echoed in her chest, stirring something both thrilling and terrifying.
Charles’s POV
He couldn’t stop thinking about her—about how fragile and fiery she was all at once. And Charles Velez was not a man who let desires go unanswered.
If he wanted something, he created it.
If he wanted someone… he made the world bend until they were his.
So that evening, with a flick of his hand, preparations began.
By the time Georgia received the unexpected call at the reception desk, her heart nearly stopped.
“Miss Santos?” Miguel’s voice was calm on the other end. “Mr. Velez would like to invite you to dinner tonight. He’ll send a car.”
Her pen clattered to the desk. “M-Mr. Velez?”
“Yes,” Miguel replied smoothly. “He insists.”
Georgia’s pulse raced. She wanted to say no, to protest that it was improper, impossible, ridiculous. But when her lips parted, the only word that slipped out was—
“…Yes.”
The black car arrived at dusk, its windows tinted, its presence commanding. Georgia sat in the backseat nervously, her simple dress clutched between her fingers. The ride felt endless and too short at the same time.
When the door opened, her breath was stolen away.
It wasn’t a hotel.
It wasn’t a crowded restaurant.
It was a private seaside villa, glowing under the moonlight. At its heart, an open-air dining area was draped in white linens, golden candlelight flickering in the breeze, and surrounding the table—hundreds of fresh daisies, arranged like a field of stars fallen to earth.
Her favorite flower.
Georgia’s POV
I froze at the sight, my throat tightening. How could he know? Daisies were such a simple thing, something I loved since childhood, but I never spoke of it at work. Yet here they were, blooming around me like a secret unveiled.
And then he appeared.
Charles walked toward me, dressed in a crisp black suit, but without his usual coldness. His expression softened when he saw me, his eyes carrying something gentler, almost vulnerable.
“You like them?” he asked, his voice low but careful.
I swallowed hard. “Daisies… they’re my favorite.”
“I know,” he said simply, pulling out the chair for me.
I sat down slowly, my heart thundering.
The candles flickered between us, casting his sharp features in gold. The sea stretched behind him, waves whispering secrets to the shore.
It felt unreal, like I had stepped into someone else’s dream.
Charles’s POV
Watching her sit across from him, framed by daisies and candlelight, Charles felt something shift inside him.
He had dined with royalty. He had shared tables with billionaires and world leaders. But never—not once—had he felt the way he did now.
Like this simple dinner could break him.
“Georgia,” he began, his voice steadier than he felt, “you’re different.”
She blinked. “Different?”
“Most people… they see me and want something. Money. Power. Opportunity.” His gaze held hers firmly. “But when you look at me, I don’t see greed. I see…” He hesitated, surprising even himself. “…honesty. And it terrifies me.”
Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she leaned closer, her voice soft. “Maybe that’s because you’re hiding something. Something you’re afraid to let anyone see.”
Her words struck deeper than she could have known.
And for the first time in his life, Charles Velez—untouchable billionaire, phantom CEO—felt dangerously close to being seen.
The dinner stretched into hours. Laughter slipped into their conversation, fragile at first, then flowing like water. She spoke of childhood memories, of simple dreams, of daisies growing by her grandmother’s house. He listened more than he spoke, and for once, silence between them felt like comfort instead of power.
By the time dessert was served, Georgia realized something terrifying.
She didn’t want the night to end.
- Writer
