Chapter Four
981 Words
The gates of Ashford Manor opened before Sebastian's car reached them.
The estate stood quietly against the evening sky, every light already glowing behind tall windows. It was beautiful in the way expensive things often were.... carefully maintained, admired from a distance, and strangely untouched by warmth.
By the time he stepped through the front doors, Harris was already waiting.
"Good evening, Mr. Ashford."
"Evening, Harris."
"Your parents are in the dining room."
Sebastian handed over his coat.
"Thank you."
He walked through the long hallway without hurrying.
Portraits of past Ashfords lined the walls.
Men and women who had built fortunes.
Expanded businesses.
Married into titles.
Not one portrait showed anyone smiling.
He wasn't sure if that had been intentional.
Or simply tradition.
As he reached the dining room, his father was already speaking.
"...the board wants an answer before Monday."
Edward Ashford didn't stop when Sebastian entered.
He simply looked up long enough to acknowledge him.
"You're home."
"I am."
"Sit."
Sebastian took his seat across from his mother.
Eleanor Ashford offered a small smile.
"You've been working late."
"I had a few things to finish."
"I hope you remembered to eat."
"I did."
She nodded once before returning to her meal.
For several minutes, only the sound of cutlery filled the room.
Edward folded a document and placed it beside his plate.
"The Zurich meeting has been moved."
"I saw the email."
"You'll handle it."
"I will."
"There are reporters expected."
"I know."
Edward gave a single nod.
"Good."
That was the end of the conversation.
Sebastian focused on his dinner.
He couldn't remember the last family meal that hadn't included business.
His mother reached for her glass.
"I heard the Foundation donated the final amount for the museum restoration."
"They did."
"The exhibition opens tomorrow, doesn't it?"
"It does."
Edward answered before Sebastian could.
"The Ashford family will be attending."
Sebastian looked up.
"I thought only the board representatives were required."
"Appearances matter."
"They always do."
Edward didn't seem to notice the quiet edge in his son's voice.
"You'll be there at two."
"I'll be there."
The conversation drifted back to investments and expansion plans.
Sebastian listened when he needed to.
Answered when he was asked.
Otherwise...
He remained quiet.
Dinner ended the way it always did.
His mother stood first.
"I have an early committee meeting tomorrow."
Edward checked his watch.
"I still have two conference calls."
Neither asked Sebastian about his day.
Neither asked why he seemed distracted.
Neither noticed that he stayed behind after they left.
The dining room suddenly felt far too large for one person.
Harris appeared beside him.
"Coffee in your study, sir?"
"Please."
"Right away."
Sebastian's study was the only room in the house that felt remotely his.
Books filled one wall from floor to ceiling.
A chessboard rested on the table near the window.
Rain tapped softly against the glass.
Harris placed a tray beside the desk.
"Your coffee."
"Thank you."
A gentle knock followed.
Nathan stepped inside carrying two folders.
"I've got tomorrow's briefing."
"Come in."
Nathan placed the folders on the desk before taking the chair opposite him.
"You look different."
Sebastian looked up.
"Different?"
Nathan smiled.
"Less tired."
"I slept well."
"That's not it."
Sebastian waited.
Nathan folded his hands.
"Something happened."
A small smile found Sebastian's face before he realized it.
"I saw Lily again."
Nathan chuckled.
"So the bookstore wasn't your last conversation."
"No."
"Café?"
Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
"How did you know?"
"You've always preferred cafés to restaurants."
"I suppose I have."
Nathan leaned back comfortably.
"How is she?"
Sebastian thought for a moment.
"Easy."
"Easy?"
"To talk to."
Nathan nodded.
"That's rare."
"It is."
"You've met twice now."
"We have."
"And?"
Sebastian looked toward the rain outside.
"I forgot what time it was."
Nathan smiled quietly.
"I can't remember the last person who managed that."
Neither spoke for a few seconds.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable.
Nathan had worked with Sebastian long enough to know when words weren't necessary.
Eventually he reached into his briefcase.
He placed a dark leather journal on the desk.
"You'll want this."
Sebastian nodded.
"I was about to ask for it."
"I figured."
Nathan stood.
As he reached the door, he paused.
"One more thing."
Sebastian looked up.
"I think it's good."
"What is?"
"Seeing you interested in something that isn't work."
Sebastian smiled.
"So do I."
Nathan left without another word.
The room became quiet again.
Sebastian rested one hand on the journal before opening it.
The pages were filled with neat handwriting.
Meetings.
Appointments.
Thoughts worth remembering.
He turned to today's date.
After a moment, he began writing.
Friday
Finished the novel Lily recommended.
Saw Lily again at the café on Mercer Street.
She still laughs before answering difficult questions.
She ordered a cappuccino and lemon loaf.
She makes ordinary conversations feel... unhurried.
He paused.
Read the last sentence again.
Then added one more line.
I hope we meet again.
He closed the journal gently.
Not every day deserved to be remembered.
Today did.
His phone vibrated against the desk.
A calendar reminder appeared on the screen.
Saturday
• Board Meeting .... 9:00 a.m.
• City Museum Exhibition .... 2:00 p.m.
Sebastian stared at the second reminder.
The Ashford Foundation had funded part of the museum's restoration.
His attendance wasn't required.
His father's was.
But Edward believed the family should always be seen supporting its name.
Sebastian slipped the phone into his pocket.
Another appearance.
Another afternoon of polite conversations.
Another obligation.
He switched off the desk lamp and walked toward the window.
Rain still shimmered across the gardens below.
For a moment, his thoughts drifted somewhere else.
He wondered if Lily had made it home before the rain started again.
He wondered whether she'd begun another book.
The thought made him smile without realizing it.
Tomorrow would be ordinary.
At least...
That's what he believed.
- Writer
