In the quiet of the night, a sealed and opaque van made its way through the deserted streets of New York, enveloped in silence.
Inside, Kevin was animatedly speaking on the phone. "They've never met, don't even know each other—it's all just unfounded gossip... No, no, Carter just did this on a whim. It's his first time participating in such an auction. He's not bothered by the industry's tacit rules... Yes, he was merely being considerate. He didn't want the girl to be embarrassed if her item went unsold, nor did he wish to hold up the event... That's Carter for you, always too kind-hearted..."
Next to him, Carter Blake, the subject of Kevin's praise, glanced at his own reflection in the window, lazily lifting his eyelids at the sound of Kevin's words.
He held a sandalwood box, which he casually spun half a turn before letting it come to rest in his hand. His fingers, slender and well-defined, absentmindedly tapped against the edge of the box. Moments later, with a subtle flexing of his fingers, he pried open a small gap in the lid—
Inside, a pale crystal seashell rested on black velvet lining, its iridescent sheen catching the car's interior light and scattering rainbow hues.
Carter gazed at it briefly before turning his attention back to the world outside the window.
When Kevin finally wrapped up his lengthy discourse, parched and fatigued, he set down his phone. He reached for a bottle of water handed to him, starting to express his thanks before realizing it was Carter who had passed it, causing his gratitude to quickly fade.
"You've really made things difficult for me, Mr. Blake." After taking a deep gulp of water, Kevin expressed his frustration, waving his phone, "See this? Dozens of calls, all from the company and our partners, all wanting confirmation. One wrong move, and by tonight—no, this very evening, you'll be the main story in the headlines!"
"Hmm," Carter acknowledged with a detached air, "But you managed it, didn't you?"
"That's only because they're currently begging us, considering the delicate timing!" Kevin implored, "Negotiating your contract termination is critical right now. We ought to be as inconspicuous as possible, not stirring up more media buzz."
"It was merely a diversion; what news is there in that?" Carter countered dismissively.
"But Carter, my esteemed forebear, didn't I just go over the auction protocol with you after we left the banquet? Personal items—it's more significant than just a simple bracelet," Kevin lamented, feeling overwhelmed.
Carter, however, seemed amused by the conversation, the box in his hand tilting playfully as he remarked, "So what you're saying is, Sophie Reed has effectively sold herself to me with just a bracelet?"
"That's obviously not the case—" Kevin paused mid-sentence, turning suspiciously, "How do you know that young lady's name?"
"You told me," Carter stated simply.
"Did I mention it?" Kevin pondered aloud.
"Yes."
"Oh..."
Kevin chose not to probe further, instead persisting with his advice, "Even if it was to ease the situation, such a dramatic gesture wasn't necessary. With so many in the business eager to align with you, we should be avoiding them, not handing them reasons to cling to your fame."
"She won't do that," Carter assured him.
"Thank goodness her profile is virtually unknown; nobody even recognizes her—eh?" Kevin's realization came a tad too late.
"She won't be seeking the limelight," Carter repeated, his voice calm and steady.
"And you're certain because...?" Kevin inquired.
With a flick of his wrist, Carter nonchalantly manipulated the wooden box, his gaze shrouded by his lashes that barely concealed the amusement in his eyes.
A thought struck him, and he smiled, looking back out the window.
"She'd much rather keep her distance. She's not one to seek attention willingly."
On a morning Sophie had earmarked for sleeping in, her plans were shattered just after 8 am by a relentless barrage of texts and calls from Miranda. Despite her attempts to ignore them, Sophie finally gave in, sliding the call to answer and activating the speakerphone, her hair cascading messily around the pillow.
"You're telling me you know Carter Blake and didn't think to share this gem with your bestie? What happened to sisterhood? Were you out making new friends while I was stuck on location?" Miranda's incredulous voice echoed through the speaker, laden with disbelief. "I would've been clueless about this massive scoop if the director hadn't blasted our group chat on speaker by mistake this morning. It took several self-pinches to believe it was actually your name that came up. How did you even cross paths with a celebrity of his caliber? I need details!"
"And hey, even if it's just a casual thing, I volunteer as tribute," Miranda blurted out in a breathless rush, her tone swinging between jest and earnest. "You know Carter Blake has been my ultimate dream guy for years!"
As Miranda rattled on, Sophie could only marvel at her friend's ability to unleash a verbal torrent akin to an unending burst from a Gatling gun. Any remnants of sleepiness were promptly chased away.
Conceding defeat to the wakefulness forced upon her, Sophie dragged herself to the bathroom for a routine morning freshen-up. Post the emotionless rinse and spit of her mouthwash, she picked up her phone again.
"I don't know him, haven't slept with him, drop it," Sophie responded flatly.
The line went silent, the sound of dreams being crushed palpable through the pause.
Refusing to let it go, Miranda prodded, "Seriously, not even once?"
"Not once."
"Is there a chance you might, you know, get past his guard someday?"
The absurdity coaxed a laugh from Sophie, though her tone remained frosty, "Should that day ever come, you'll be the first to know."
Detecting the edge in Sophie's voice, Miranda exhaled a sigh of resignation, "So, there's absolutely nothing between you two. Then why in the world would he go out on a limb to bid on your... what did they say? Your indenture contract?"
"Indenture contract? What are you talking about?" Sophie's initial confusion quickly gave way to clarity. "What do you mean by 'indenture contract'?"
"You're really out of the loop, huh?" Miranda chuckled, seizing the moment to gloat. "You owe Carter Blake big time for stepping in to bid on your bracelet. Without his move, you'd be in a world of trouble."
"Get to the point," Sophie pressed, her patience thinning.
"Simple: auctioning off a personal item like that essentially equates to auctioning yourself," Miranda laid it out.
Sophie was dumbfounded. "Excuse me?"
"Fortune has it, Carter Blake was the one to win the bid. Otherwise, you'd likely be labeled as some magnate's mistress by now."
The revelation took Sophie nearly ten seconds to digest before she finally sighed and exited the bathroom.
"And Carter Blake being the bidder changes what, exactly?"
"He's an industry heartthrob, a fantasy for many. Given his notoriously passionate fanbase, his involvement has shielded you from the more sordid speculations. Though now, the nature of your... relationship is subject to speculation. At least no one's spinning tales of sordid affairs."
Bearing Miranda's ribbing, Sophie's initial annoyance began to wane.
She grabbed a slice of whole wheat bread from the fridge and retreated back to her room, opting not to engage further.
"Just don't get too comfortable. While you're not facing any scandalous rumors, there's no shortage of other gossip."
Sophie paused, bread halfway to her mouth. "Like?"
"The most believable rumor I've heard suggests you strikingly resemble Carter Blake's late first love. They say he bid out of nostalgia, to keep a token of remembrance. It's plausible, isn't it? Strangers though you may be, him lavishing a fortune on your bracelet—sorry, twenty-dollar bracelet—doesn't add up otherwise. This is Carter Blake we're talking about; not even charitable giving explains such an extravagance."
Sophie almost bought into the narrative.
She pondered their brief encounters, especially their last exchange.
"Weren't you about to kiss me?"… "I'm ready whenever you are."
His challenging smirk haunted her thoughts.
Sophie's face blanked.
Placing the bread down, she calmly sipped some water, "You're reading too much into it. Him wanting to play dad has a better chance than any tale of lost love."
Miranda was momentarily lost for words.
After finally concluding the call, Sophie realized Miranda's ramblings were merely the prelude to an onslaught of curiosity from colleagues, acquaintances, and even strangers. Her phone became so inundated that she had to resort to airplane mode for some semblance of peace.
Yet, the quiet was only superficial, as Sophie was left to ponder the uninvited attention and Carter Blake's inexplicably generous act.
After spending three days holed up at home, Sophie's solitude was abruptly interrupted by a visit from her agency. What was framed as a simple discussion about future engagements quickly escalated as she was whisked away in a sleek black car towards the company's headquarters.
"Do we really need to head to the headquarters just to talk about engagements?" she mused aloud. This marked Sophie's first visit to the agency's grandiose lobby, a space that was nothing short of extravagant. Surrounded by the unmistakable air of wealth, she felt distinctly out of place, her sentiments echoing those of a relatively unknown artist.
"Ha, Sophie, always the comedian. For an announcement of this magnitude, absolutely," her agent responded with a warmth she hadn't encountered before, treating her with an unexpected kindness.
Sophie, however, remained unfazed by the gesture.
With a casual "Oh," she followed her agent into the VIP elevator, her demeanor cool and detached, indicative of someone contemplating their exit from the industry.
They exited the elevator into a floor that was a study in minimalist elegance, a stark contrast to the ostentation elsewhere in the building. Walking past a sign that announced "Executive Conference Room," Sophie couldn't help but feel underwhelmed by the understated naming convention.
Absorbed in her thoughts, she followed her agent down a corridor to a conference room where two individuals were already seated. One was Dylan Hayes, the division head she recognized, and the other was...
Upon noticing Sophie, the woman's initial composure shattered. "Why is she here??" Sophie recoiled slightly, bracing for a possible outburst from Vivian Hart, known for her fiery temperament.
Trying to smooth over the palpable tension, Sophie's agent offered a conciliatory chuckle, "Let's not get heated, Vivian. You're both valued talents of the agency."
"How can you compare us?" Vivian snapped back, her voice laced with indignation. "Look at the difference in our standings! She's merely my stand-in, hardly more than an extra. How are we alike?"
The agent, caught off-guard by Vivian's vehemence, quickly backpedaled, "I didn't mean it like that."
"Enough, Vivian. Remember where we are. Maintain professionalism," Dylan interjected, restoring a semblance of order to the meeting.
Vivian, though visibly annoyed, managed to restrain herself, settling into her seat with a huff directed at Sophie.
"Sophie, please take a seat," Dylan motioned, his voice calm.
Sophie nodded, her reaction one of disinterest, and chose a seat near the door, her actions reflecting a detachment from the proceedings.
Dylan then posed the question, "Do you know the purpose of this meeting?"
Sophie shook her head, indicating her ignorance.
Shifting the conversation's direction, Dylan inquired, "Is there any personal connection between you and Carter Blake?"
The abruptness of the question caught Sophie off-guard, prompting an immediate and vehement denial from Vivian before Sophie could even respond.
Dylan frowned at the interruption, admonishing Vivian with a single word.
Yet, Vivian was relentless, "You brought her here for this? The agency is overthinking things. There's no way she has any sort of relationship with Carter Blake!"
"We're just looking to confirm," Dylan attempted to clarify, only to be cut off by Vivian, who claimed to have already investigated the matter through Carter's agent, Kevin Strong, who confirmed that Carter did not know Sophie.
The room fell silent, the tension palpable.
Before the conversation could proceed further, Sophie interjected, "There's nothing between us," her voice firm yet indifferent.
Her statement seemed to catch Dylan off-guard, prompting Sophie to add, "As they said, Carter Blake doesn't know me. We've never met. The bracelet incident was merely a coincidence."
Vivian's scoff conveyed a smug 'I told you so' to Dylan, who was about to respond when they were interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Come in," Dylan invited, his voice betraying a hint of weariness.
The door swung open to reveal a figure clad in a hooded jumper and high-neck sweater, the air around him charged with an effortless disdain.
Dylan rose to greet the newcomer, "Mr. Blake," his voice attempting to mask the tension.
The room held its breath as the figure paused, his presence commanding attention not from Dylan but from Sophie.
Unable to ignore the intense scrutiny, Sophie found herself standing and offering her hand, "Mr. Blake, nice to meet you. I'm Sophie Reed."
Her gesture went unreciprocated, as expected. Yet, unexpectedly, Carter Blake removed his hood, his attention shifting as he retrieved a small wooden box from his coat pocket.
"Your bracelet," he said nonchalantly, placing the box into Sophie's hand, "I'm returning it."
Sophie was left speechless as Carter stepped away, then paused, adding, "Oh, and no need for a kiss this time. Maybe next time."