Linger in My Heart

Dinner with the Devil

Le Jardin's soft lighting cast golden shadows across white tablecloths as Olivia stepped through its stylish doors. The maître d' looked at her reservation and smiled.

"Mr. Hayes is waiting for you in the private dining room."

Of course he is, Olivia thought. Privacy meant no witnesses to whatever bomb he planned to drop about this mystery trust.

She followed the maître d' past tables of New York's elite, her blue silk dress whispering against marble floors. The private dining room waited at the end of a long hallway, its double doors as imposing as the ones in Ethan's office.

"Right this way, Ms. Carter."

The doors opened to show Ethan standing by floortoceiling windows, Manhattan's lights twinkling behind him like stars. He'd loosened his tie, rolled up his sleeves—little details that made him look more like the boy she'd known at university.

That thought sparked a wave of memories she'd fought all afternoon to suppress...

Ten years earlier University of Pennsylvania

Rain pounded against library windows as Olivia hunched over architectural drawings, frustration building. Her final project was due in two days, and something about the plan felt wrong.

"Your support beams won't hold."

She jumped at the deep voice, turning to find intense blue eyes watching her work. The guy leaning over her shoulder wore a faded tshirt and pants with more personality than polish, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"The way you've designed it," he said, pointing to her sketch. "Beautiful idea, but those support beams won't handle the weight distribution. You'd have structural failure within five years."

Olivia bristled. "And you know this because...?"

"Because I've been designing buildings since I could hold a pencil." He pulled up a chair, unwanted. "Ethan Hayes."

"Olivia Carter. And I don't remember asking for help."

His laugh was surprising, warm. "No, but you look like you need it. Coffee?"

He held up two cups from the library's café. The gesture was so disarming, so real, that her defenses cracked.

"Fine," she sighed, taking one. "Show me what's wrong with my support beams."

Three hours later, they were still talking. The conversation had drifted from architecture to dreams, from job goals to childhood stories. Something clicked between them—a recognition of kindred souls.

"You really want to revolutionize sustainable architecture?" she asked, intrigued by his passion.

"I want to change the world," he said frankly. "One building at a time." His eyes locked with hers. "What about you? What do you dream about?"

"Creating spaces that tell stories," she admits. "Buildings that make people feel something."

"Show me," he whispered.

She did, sketching her thoughts while he watched. When their hands brushed over the paper, energy sparked between them.

"Liv," he said softly, "I think this is the beginning of something amazing."

He was right. They just didn't know how it would end...

Present Day

"Earth to Olivia."

She blinked, snapping back to the present. Ethan stood closer now, worry flickering across his face.

"Lost in thought?" he asked.

"Lost in the past," she admitted before she could stop herself. "It's been that kind of day."

Something softened in his face. "I ordered the wine you used to love. Some things shouldn't change."

The action struck her heart like an arrow. "But they do change, Ethan. We did."

"Did we?" He pulled out her chair. "Or did we just let other people change us?"

She sat, unwilling to let his words affect her. "You wanted to discuss the trust."

"Always straight to business." He settled across from her. "Some things really don't change."

"Stop." She met his eyes firmly. "No more games. No more walks down memory lane. Tell me what's going on."

Ethan studied her for a long moment, then reached into his jacket. He pulled out a letter, old and creased like it had been read many times.

"My grandfather's final amendment to the Hayes family trust," he said, sliding it across the table. "Read it."

Olivia picked up the letter, her heart pounding as she read the formal text. Phrases jumped out at her: "must be married by his thirtysecond birthday" ... "to maintain control of Hayes Architectural Group" ... "wife must be of suitable social standing and business acumen."

"Your thirtysecond birthday," she said slowly. "That's—"

"Three months away." Ethan's voice was grim. "If I'm not married by then, I lose everything I've built. The company goes to the board of directors."

"And Victoria?" The question slipped out before she could stop it.

His laugh held no humor. "Is exactly what she appears to be—a social climber waiting to pounce on an opportunity."

"Then why—"

"Keep her close? Because she's great at what she does. And because sometimes the devil you know is better than the one you don't." He leaned forward. "But she's not why I asked you here."

Olivia's skin prickled with awareness. "Then why did you?"

"Because I need a wife." His eyes held hers captive. "A real one, not a social climber or a gold digger. Someone who knows business, who has her own success, who won't just be a pretty ornament at parties."

Understanding dawned, horror close behind. "No."

"Liv—"

"Don't call me that." She stood suddenly. "And don't even think about what you're suggesting."

"It would be a business arrangement," he said quickly. "Six months, maybe a year. Long enough to secure the company. We'd both benefit—your magazine's circulation would triple with the Hayes link."

"You're insane." She grabbed her bag. "Find another solution."

"There isn't one." His voice stopped her at the door. "And you know it, or you wouldn't have run away just now."

She turned, anger and fear warring in her chest. "I'm not running. I'm being smart."

"Are you?" He stood, closing the gap between them. "Or are you just scared?"

"Of what?"

"Of discovering why you really left ten years ago." He was too close now, his presence overwhelming. "Of learning the truth about that night."

Olivia's hand trembled on the doorknob. "I know what happened that night."

"Do you?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Then why did you never read my letters?"

The question hit her like a physical blow. "What letters?"

Triumph flashed in his eyes. "The ones Victoria claimed she brought to you. The ones you supposedly rejected." He stepped back, giving her space to breathe. "Think about it, Liv. You're a writer. Follow the story."

She fled into the hallway, her mind spinning. At the restaurant's door, the maître d' called out.

"Ms. Carter! You forgot this."

He gave her a small, wrapped package. Inside, she found a USB drive and a note in Ethan's bold handwriting:

The truth about that night. Watch it alone.

And Liv? This time, don't run.

The drive felt like it weighed a thousand pounds in her hand. Behind her, Le Jardin's lights shone like broken promises. Ahead, the New York night waited with secrets she wasn't sure she wanted to discover.

But some mysteries begged to be solved.

And some ghosts refused to stay dead.