Not his first choice

chapter 2

Chapter 2

I return to my desk, my mind running through Lucian’s sudden request. Clear his entire schedule? That never happens.

I send out cancellation emails, reschedule meetings, and inform his driver that he won’t need to be picked up for dinner with investors.

By the time I finish, my phone buzzes. Theo.

I sigh, already knowing what’s coming.

Theo: Babe, how’s the devil today?

Me: Sour. Predictable.

Theo: Ugh. If I have to hear you stress about that man one more time, I swear I’m sending an exorcist to that office.

I stifle a laugh, shaking my head. Before I can reply, my desk phone rings.

Lucian.

I pick up instantly. “Yes, Mr. Sterling?”

“My office. Now.”

Click.

Of course.

I smooth my skirt, grab my tablet, and head inside.

Lucian is standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out over the city. His suit jacket is off, sleeves rolled up.

A rare sight.

He doesn’t turn as I step in. "Do you have dinner plans?"

I freeze. Did I hear that right?

My mouth opens, then closes. "Are you asking or demanding?"

His head tilts slightly. "Does it make a difference?"

I fold my arms. "It absolutely does."

Finally, he turns, his sharp gaze locking onto mine. "Cancel them. You’re having dinner with me tonight."

My pulse stutters.

I don’t move. Don’t react. Because this is just business.

It has to be.

Right?

I blink, keeping my face impassive even as my stomach twists.

"Dinner," I repeat, carefully. "With you."

Lucian gives me a slow, assessing look. "That’s what I said."

"Business or personal?" My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

His lips twitch—just barely. "Since when do I mix business with personal?"

That should be my answer. That should put my heart back where it belongs—firmly in my chest instead of hammering against my ribs.

But it doesn’t.

Instead, my fingers tighten around the tablet in my hands.

"I’ll make a reservation," I say smoothly, pushing aside whatever this is.

Lucian shakes his head. "Already handled. Seven o’clock. Be ready."

His tone is final. No room for negotiation.

I know better than to question him.

But as I turn to leave, I feel his gaze lingering on me.

I don’t dare look back.