The scent of yesterday

first encounter

: Nicole’s First Encounter With Ethan (Blackwood Enterprises)

The lobby of Blackwood Enterprises hummed with soft jazz and the subtle clacking of heels. Nicole clutched her employee ID like it was her lifeline.

Her heart stuttered when she stepped into the elevator that smelled of mint and cedarwood—and found herself face-to-face with him.

Ethan Blackwood.

Tailored navy suit. Crisp white shirt. That signature jawline she’d only seen in news articles and tabloid photos. He didn’t look at her. Didn’t nod. Didn’t speak.

Nicole gave a polite smile, uncertain. “Good morning, Mr. Blackwood.”

His eyes flicked to her with a coolness that iced her blood.

“New?” His voice was low and controlled, like everything else about him.

“Yes. Nicole Lane. I just started today in the admin department.”

He pressed a floor button without a word and faced forward again. The elevator dinged, and he stepped out before her without so much as a second glance.

Nicole swallowed the lump in her throat.

Well, so much for first impressions.

Back in his office, Ethan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the city pulse below. That girl in the elevator—Nicole—why did her name linger in his mind longer than it should?

He didn’t have time for distractions.

Not when he’d just received a message from his mother:

“Family dinner. Everyone will be there. Don’t be late this time.”

He sighed. The last thing he wanted was to be in the same room as his father and stepbrother.

That evening, the Blackwood estate glowed with old money and polished silver. Chandeliers sparkled above a long dining table already set with fine china.

Ethan arrived fashionably late, as usual.

His mother, a vision in burgundy velvet, looked up first and smiled. “Ethan.”

“Mother,” he said, kissing her cheek.

She gestured toward a young woman in soft pastels with glossy curls.

“Issabel is here too. Isn’t she lovely tonight?”

Issabel stood and kissed Ethan’s cheek. “Ethan. It’s so good to see you again.”

He offered a brief smile. “Issabel.”

At the head of the table sat his father, Gregory Blackwood—stern, composed, never warm.

And beside him, Adrian—Ethan’s stepbrother. Same sharp jaw. Same eyes. But where Ethan was ice, Adrian was fire. Ambitious. Smug.

“Ethan,” Adrian said with a smirk. “How’s the empire?”

“Still standing,” Ethan replied coolly.

Dinner was served, but it wasn’t food Ethan was chewing on—it was bitterness.

His father spoke about shares. His mother pushed the topic of marriage again.

“Ethan, Issabel is more than willing to move to New York,” she said. “You should at least consider giving her a chance.”

“I don’t need a wife picked out like I’m shopping for antiques,” Ethan said coldly.

Gregory gave him a sharp look. “You forget who made you CEO.”

“I earned my seat at that table,” Ethan shot back.

Adrian sipped his wine with a satisfied smile. “Some of us didn’t need help.”

Ethan’s hand clenched beneath the table. His gaze flicked toward Issabel, who looked embarrassed.

Meanwhile, back at Blackwood Enterprises, Nicole stayed late to sort out file errors in the database. She didn’t know Ethan had left for a family meeting. She only knew he had looked at her like she didn’t belong.

She stepped out into the night with a sigh.

He probably thinks I’m just another forgettable face.

But something about him had unsettled her—not just his coldness, but the sadness hiding under all that steel .

After dinner, Ethan walked his mother to the garden for a private word.

She touched his arm. “You don’t have to hate him forever.”

“I don’t hate him. I just don’t respect him,” Ethan said. “Or your idea of love.”

She exhaled. “Issabel could be good for you.”

“I’m not marrying her. No matter how ‘good’ she looks on paper.”

As Ethan left, Issabel remained behind, her face composed but eyes cold.

Adrian leaned in. “Don’t worry. He always resists what he really needs.”

Issabel smiled faintly. “And you’ll help me?”

Adrian nodded. “I always help family.”