Chapter 21
1671 Words
Summer’s POV
The next morning, I woke up before my alarm.
For a few seconds, I didn’t know where I was.
Then I remembered.
Lena’s apartment.
The settlement conference.
Ethan.
The divorce.
The memories returned one after another, settling over me like a weight I had forgotten was there.
I stared at the ceiling.
For a brief moment, I considered staying in bed.
Just for another hour.
Then I sat up.
No.
I was going to work.
I got out of bed before I could change my mind.
The shower helped.
Not completely.
But enough.
By the time I stepped in front of Lena’s bathroom mirror, I felt more like myself than I had in days.
I wanted to look like me.
Not the woman Ethan had left behind.
Not the woman who had spent the last few weeks crying over her marriage.
Not the woman everyone had been watching carefully, waiting for her to break.
Just me.
I chose a soft ivory blouse with a subtle satin finish.
It wasn’t flashy.
It wasn’t meant to be.
But it fit perfectly, the fabric falling neatly over my body without clinging too tightly.
I paired it with high-waisted charcoal trousers that gave me a polished, professional look.
The outfit was simple.
Clean.
Sharp.
Exactly what I needed.
I slipped into a pair of pointed black heels and added a structured black handbag.
My jewelry was minimal.
Small gold hoops.
A delicate gold watch.
A thin bracelet around my wrist.
Nothing excessive.
Just enough to make me feel put together.
My hair took longer.
I had spent the last several weeks doing the bare minimum with it.
A quick ponytail.
A messy bun.
Anything that required as little effort as possible.
Today, I took my time.
I parted it neatly and styled it into soft waves that fell over my shoulders.
I brushed the front pieces away from my face and pinned one side back with a small gold clip.
I stared at my reflection.
The woman looking back at me still looked tired.
There were faint shadows beneath my eyes.
But she also looked determined.
I picked up my makeup bag.
I didn’t want anything heavy.
Just enough.
A little concealer beneath my eyes.
A light layer of foundation.
Soft brown eyeshadow.
Mascara.
A touch of blush.
A nude lip gloss.
When I finished, I looked at myself again.
Then I nodded.
“Okay.”
Lena appeared in the doorway.
She looked me up and down.
“Wow.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“You look like you’re about to walk into Knight Constructions and fire everyone.”
I laughed.
“Maybe I am.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Terrified.”
She grinned.
“Good.”
I picked up my handbag.
Then stopped.
For one brief second, I stared at myself again.
Going back to work felt strange.
I had only been away for a few weeks.
But it felt longer.
As though I had left one version of myself behind and was returning as someone else.
I had spent so much time being Ethan’s wife.
Now I was going back to being just Summer Rivers.
A senior interior designer.
A woman with a career.
A woman who had built something before her marriage fell apart.
A woman who still had somewhere to go.
That mattered.
More than I could explain.
Lena drove us to Knight Constructions.
I watched the city pass through the window.
Los Angeles was already awake.
Traffic moved along the roads.
People hurried toward offices.
Coffee shops were filling.
Everyone seemed to be going somewhere.
For once, I didn’t feel jealous of them.
I was going somewhere too.
When the Knight Constructions building finally came into view, something shifted inside me.
The massive glass-and-steel structure rose above the surrounding buildings.
The company logo stood proudly near the entrance.
I had walked through those doors countless times.
But this morning, it felt different.
Lena pulled into the parking garage.
“You ready?”
I looked at the building.
“No.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
I laughed.
Then I opened the door.
The moment my heels touched the ground, I straightened my shoulders.
I adjusted the strap of my handbag.
Lifted my chin.
And walked toward the building.
Not as Ethan Carter’s wife.
Not as the woman whose marriage had just collapsed.
Not as someone waiting for her old life to return.
I walked in as Summer Rivers.
And for the first time in weeks…
I felt like I belonged to myself again.
The lobby was exactly as I remembered it.
Polished marble floors.
Tall glass walls.
Modern furniture.
The soft hum of conversations.
Employees moving in every direction.
Some people recognized me immediately.
Their eyes widened.
Then smiles appeared.
“Summer!”
“Welcome back!”
“It’s good to see you.”
I smiled.
“Thank you.”
A few people asked how I was doing.
I gave them the same answer I had given everyone else.
“Better.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie.
Not anymore.
I reached the reception desk.
The receptionist smiled when she saw me.
“Welcome back.”
“Thank you.”
“Your team has been asking about you.”
“I hope they didn’t replace me.”
She laughed.
“Never.”
I smiled.
Then something caught my attention.
A conversation happening near the security desk.
“Is he still upstairs?”
“Yes.”
“When did he arrive?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
I wasn’t paying much attention.
Not until I heard the name.
“Andrew Knight.”
I stopped.
For one strange second, my brain refused to process it.
Then I turned slightly.
Andrew Knight was here?
I looked toward the elevators.
The name was familiar.
Of course it was.
Everyone at Knight Constructions knew Andrew Knight.
It was his company.
His name was on the building.
His face appeared in business magazines, newspapers, interviews, and company announcements.
He was the founder.
The CEO.
The man responsible for the entire empire I worked for.
But I had never met him.
Not personally.
Not properly.
In two years at Knight Constructions, I had never had a one-on-one conversation with Andrew Knight.
Not once.
And that wasn’t unusual.
Knight Constructions was enormous.
I was a senior interior designer.
Andrew Knight dealt with executives.
Department heads.
Senior management.
People whose decisions affected entire divisions.
He didn’t walk around the design department asking individual designers about their projects.
If he needed something from my department, he spoke to my boss.
Or the director above him.
Or someone even higher up the chain.
People like me existed several levels below him.
I had never even been in the same meeting as him.
So there was absolutely no reason for me to suddenly feel strange hearing his name.
And yet…
My mind immediately went somewhere it had no business going.
A dark room.
Low amber lighting.
A deep voice.
A black mask.
A pair of eyes watching me from beneath it.
I froze.
No.
Absolutely not.
I blinked.
Then laughed quietly at myself.
What was wrong with me?
I had met a masked biker at a motorcycle clubhouse.
I had been drinking.
A lot.
I had been heartbroken.
Emotionally unstable.
And apparently, alcohol had decided to turn my imagination into a full-time screenwriter.
Of course the man had not been Andrew Knight.
That was ridiculous.
Andrew Knight?
In a biker clubhouse?
I nearly laughed again.
The man who owned one of the largest construction companies in Los Angeles had been sitting in a dark room drinking whiskey with bikers?
No.
That made no sense.
I had clearly been drunk.
Very drunk.
Probably more drunk than I wanted to admit.
I had met a stranger.
A mysterious, masked stranger.
And because he had carried himself with confidence and authority, my alcohol-addled mind had somehow decided he must be my boss.
I shook my head.
“Get a grip, Summer.”
“Talking to yourself?”
I turned.
One of my colleagues stood behind me.
I smiled.
“Apparently.”
She laughed.
“Good to have you back.”
“Good to be back.”
I looked toward the elevators again.
Andrew Knight was here.
That was all.
It had nothing to do with me.
I had no reason to see him.
No reason to meet him.
No reason to think about him.
And certainly no reason to think about the masked biker.
I turned away from the elevators.
Then remembered something.
I needed to speak to my department head.
I had been given leave after telling my boss that I was going through a divorce.
I wanted to let her know I was back officially.
I wanted to thank her for giving me the time.
And, if I was being honest, I wanted to do something normal.
Something work-related.
Something that didn’t involve lawyers or Ethan or the word divorce.
I checked the time.
My boss would probably be in her office by now.
I made my way toward the elevators.
The familiar sound of my heels followed me across the lobby.
I pressed the button.
Then waited.
The elevator arrived.
The doors opened.
I stepped inside.
I pressed the button for my department.
The doors began to close.
Then suddenly…
They stopped.
I frowned.
Someone had pressed the button from outside.
The doors opened again.
I looked up.
And froze.
A man stood on the other side.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit.
One hand rested casually in the pocket of his trousers.
The other held a phone.
His dark hair was slightly tousled.
His expression was calm.
Controlled.
Unreadable.
But it was his eyes that stopped my heart.
I knew those eyes.
I had seen them beneath a black mask.
Across a crowded room.
In the quiet of a private office.
When he had looked at me as though I was the only person in the world.
My breath caught.
- Writer
