Chapter 7
Gavin’s breath caught. He was blocked and ignored. “This is all an act, he told himself. ‘She’s rushing off because she knows I’ll see right through her. There was no way she really meant breakup.‘
‘We’ve never had a real fight. She didn’t cry, didn’t make a scene. This isn’t how someone acts when it’s really over. Just a cold war. Whoever caves first loses. Gavin couldn’t accept that Cecilia had really moved on.
*****
The VIP elevator dinged open at the 17th floor. Project Manager David nearly choked on his coffee when Gavin stepped out -again. ‘Second surprise visit this week,‘ he thought, his grip tightening on the paper cup. ‘Should I say something about Cecilia? No, better keep my mouth shut.‘ He forced a smile as Gavin approached.
Gavin glanced at Cecilia’s empty desk, then casually tapped the elevator button. “I pressed the wrong floor,” he said smoothly, as if it were the most natural mistake. ‘She’s avoiding me, probably secretly worrying about me right now. The doors closed with a soft chime, his expression unreadable.
*****
As evening fell at Tate’s Grand Feast, the group of friends sipped red wine under the warm glow of chandeliers, all noticing Gavin’s dark mood. When the conversation turned to him, Gavin swirled his wine dismissively. “The food’s terrible,” he lied, avoiding everyone’s gaze.
“Don’t you dare say that.” Xavier shot up from his chair. “My restaurant’s reputation is built on seafood. I personally instructed the chef to prepare his finest work. If his cooking fails to impress you, I’ll have to fire him.”
“Gavin won’t touch shellfish unless someone peels it for him,” Charles quipped, the unspoken name hanging in the air. “Preferably hand–fed, like a spoiled emperor.” His smirk said what he didn’t. Everyone knew who used to do that for Gavin.
Gavin’s gaze darkened. He had never peeled his own seafood. Back when Cecilia was here, his plate was always piled with perfectly prepared bites.
Catching Gavin’s dark look, Charles grinned and rolled up his sleeves. “Allow me, Your Majesty,” he teased, dangling a peeled. lobster in front of Gavin. The whole table burst into laughter.
Gavin set down his fork with deliberate calm. “That’s enough,” he said, his voice cutting through the laughter. “I’d like to at least keep my appetite for the wine.”
“Since when can’t you take a joke?” Charles pulled back, realizing Cecilia’s absence was affecting Gavin more than expected. “Still haven’t made up with her?” In a flash, he snatched Gavin’s phone. “I texted her, but got no reply. She’s clearly waiting for you to reach out first.”
“Wait-” Gavin’s hand shot out, but Charles had already hit send. A beat later, Charles stared at the screen in shock. “She blocked you?” Gavin’s throat tightened. An awkward silence fell over the table.
“Gavin,” Charles leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur, “this isn’t just a tantrum. Cecilia’s seriously done. Swallow your pride and apologize now, or you’ll spend years regretting it.” Gavin set his jaw, shaking his head.
Just as the tension peaked, a friend came back from picking up his date. “Guess who I just saw in the lobby?” he announced, grinning. “Cecilia. Who said they were fighting? Look, she’s here, always putting Gavin first.” The shadow on Gavin’s face dissolved into a smug smile.
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Chapter 7
But ten minutes later, Cecilia still hadn’t appeared. Xavier slipped away to check the security cameras, returning with an awkward expression. “Maybe she couldn’t locate us. She’s actually in a private dining room on the fourth floor, the Crawfords‘ reservation.”
“So Cecilia came here for someone else?” Charles‘ words hung in the suddenly airless room. Every head swiveled toward Gavin, whose expression darkened like thunder rolling in.
In the fourth–floor private dining room, Cecilia positioned her tablet on the table, presenting the design concept for the exhibition. Across from her sat a man in an impeccably tailored suit, a blue silk tie secured with a silver pin, a wristwatch worth millions. Every detail screamed old money.
“Mr. Crawford, if the contract terms work for you, we can close the deal today.” Cecilia addressed Neil Crawford, head of the Crawford Group. While the Crawfords and the Fosters did business together, they were also competitors. The Crawfords owned half of the city’s luxury hotels.
“Ms. Jordan, mixing business with dinner? That’s the kind of commitment I like to see.” Neil nodded at the seafood feast laid out before them. “The contract can wait. Let’s eat first.”
“Of course,” Cecilia agreed readily, her practiced smile unwavering. Years of boardroom battles had made this dance second nature. With the jewelry exhibition details to finalize, she focused on her salad, carefully avoiding the seafood.
Neil watched her closely. “Not your taste? Last time with Mr. Foster, you peeled shellfish the entire evening. I assumed you loved it. Shall we get you something different?”
Cecilia never liked seafood, especially all that peeling. “No thanks,” she said. “I need to get back to work.” Now that she wasn’t Gavin’s secretary anymore, she wore flat shoes and kept her nails short and simple. For the first time in years, Gavin’s preferences didn’t factor into her choices.
Neil picked up on her meaning immediately. “They say you switched from secretary to project team,” he said, leaning forward. “With your skills, why stay at Foster’s? Come to Crawford Group. Just tell me what you need.”
‘Job offer or something more?‘ Cecilia kept her smile steady while weighing his words. “Don’t tell me Crawford Group is short on secretaries, Mr. Crawford. What about Ms. Lawrence? Or Ms. Zoller?” Her skin prickled under his gaze, too heavy for a business meeting.
“Bad choice of words,” Neil eased up, softening his stare. “Secretary work was beneath you. Look at this exhibition plan. It shows exactly what you’re capable of. The offer is real, and it’ll keep. Crawford Group always has a spot for you.”
“Appreciate the offer.” Cecilia deftly avoided giving an answer. After the dinner, the moment the contract was signed, she rose from her seat. “I’ll send the follow–up documents by email, Mr. Crawford. Good evening.”
Cecilia hadn’t driven herself tonight. As she stepped into the cool night air, she flagged down a taxi and slid inside, finally exhaling the tension she had been carrying all evening.
**
On his way to the parking garage, Neil ran into Gavin near the elevators. “Mr. Foster,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “What a coincidence. Unless you were waiting for me?”
Gavin’s expression turned sharp. “I’ve told you before. Cecilia belongs with me. Watch your step.” Their families‘ business ties meant unavoidable encounters. Any man could see what Neil really wanted from Cecilia. And it wasn’t just business.
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Chapter 7
“Mr. Foster, you’ve got it backwards. Ms. Jordan invited me today.” Neil’s cocky grin was designed to irritate. As things were heating up, Charles and Xavier showed up.
“Hey now, we’re all friends here,” Xavier cut in, stepping between them. He had known Neil for years too. “Come on, man. You know Cecilia’s with Gavin. Don’t go after someone else’s girl.”
Neil raised his hands with fake innocence, that annoying smirk still on his face. “Hold on,” he said slowly, “why assume I’m chasing her? Maybe she’s the one interested in me?”
Gavin finally lost it. “Cecilia’s mine,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “We’ve been together for years. She’s not available, not now, not ever. Cross that line, and you’ll regret it.”
