Between the Lines

The office was buzzing when I arrived, more than usual for a Tuesday morning. Velmora's skyline glinted through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Aldridge International, and I took a moment to breathe it in. This view had always grounded me—concrete, steel, and the pulse of power. But today, it all felt like background noise to something quieter tugging at the center of my chest.

Celine.

I had barely slept after the flight. Not because of exhaustion, but because my mind wouldn't stop replaying the moments between us. Her laugh over dessert. The way she didn't pull away when our hands brushed. The look in her eyes when I asked for another evening. There had been no performance in that moment—just her. And for the first time, I felt like she let me see past her armor.

And now, I couldn't stop wondering if she'd say yes again.

Oliver handed me my itinerary the moment I stepped off the elevator. "Morning, sir. You have back-to-back strategy reviews with the merger oversight team. A board debrief with Charles and legal, and—" he hesitated slightly, "—a lunch slot blocked with Evelyn. She said you'd know why."

Of course she did.

"Tell Evelyn I'll meet her at the usual place," I said.

"Yes, sir."

The morning moved quickly—aggressive budget projections, technical integration issues, and a minor hiccup with marketing alignment. But none of it unsettled me. I was focused, efficient, and—to Oliver's confusion—even smiling a little.

"Something good happen over the weekend?" he asked as we walked between meetings.

I didn't answer. But the answer was yes.

After the last meeting, I slid into the backseat of the town car and told the driver to head to Evelyn's favorite garden café. When I arrived, she was already seated at a shaded table, sipping from a teacup and looking entirely too pleased with herself.

"Well?" she said, arching an eyebrow.

"Well what?"

"Don't play coy, Blake. You took her to Las Veritas. Something happened. I can see it in your face."

I sighed, loosening the collar of my shirt. "She smiled. She laughed. She relaxed. It was... different."

Evelyn beamed. "I knew she just needed space. And someone who didn't push too hard."

I stirred the coffee the waiter placed in front of me. "She's not just guarded. She's... conditioned. Every part of her is built to protect something."

"Like you?" Evelyn countered gently.

I gave her a wry smile. "Touché."

Evelyn reached across the table and patted my hand. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it. Slowly. Kindly. Let it be hers to choose."

I nodded. That had always been the plan. This wasn't about winning. This was about showing up—and continuing to.

When I returned to the office that afternoon, a message waited in my inbox:

From: Celine Cater

Subject: Gala RSVP

I'll be ready. Looking forward to dinner after. – C.

I leaned back in my chair and let the small, satisfied grin spread across my face.

It wasn't just a yes.

It was a beginning.

I spent the next hour reading through a corporate social responsibility report, but my focus kept drifting. Her message echoed in my mind—simple, but filled with implication.

Looking forward to dinner after.

Was she nervous? Curious? Did she feel that shift I'd sensed in Las Veritas, too? Or was she just being polite?

My phone buzzed with a reminder about the gala two nights away. I knew the press would be watching, eyes scanning our every gesture for cracks or chemistry. But for once, I didn't dread it.

Because if Celine and I were stepping into something new, maybe this public moment would mark the private turning point.

I stood and walked to the wide windows of my corner office, hands in my pockets. My reflection merged with the view of Velmora's gleaming spires. I thought about my parents—their quiet love, their laughter, the way they'd known when to challenge and when to comfort.

I used to believe that kind of connection only came once in a lifetime. And when my father died, I told myself I'd never chase something like that, never risk that level of loss.

But Celine was changing that.

She made me want to risk it.

To try.

To feel.

The idea terrified me. But it also grounded me in a way power never had.

And that, more than anything, told me it was real.