Chapter 2: A crack in the armor.
Alexander Bellamy seldom found himself speechless. His entire career, his empire, had been based on his ability to navigate intricate discussions, outperform brutal competitors, and control any circumstance. But as Isabel sat across from him, casually talking charity data, he found it difficult to concentrate on what she was saying.
He had mentally prepared for this encounter, as he did for all others. But he didn't anticipate her to be the face of the foundation with which his company had collaborated.His memory of her sitting alone in that restaurant clashed with the professional lady in front of him, yet both versions seemed equally significant. It wasn't simply business anymore.
"And finally," Isabel stated with a firm voice, "the allocation of funds will ensure that 85% of all donations go directly to the intended causes, with minimal overhead."
Alexander blinked, realizing he had barely heard parts of her lecture. He could not afford to let his thoughts wander, especially in front of someone like her.
"Impressive," he commented, leaning forward slightly. "It sounds like you've thought of everything."
Isabel smiled, but it was the type of smile he recognized: courteous, professional. The kind of smile he offered to those he had to put up with in meetings, those he was apathetic toward. "Mr. Bellamy, thank you," she answered. "With these kinds of projects, transparency is crucial, especially because so much public trust is at stake." There was something so assured and serene about the way she spoke. Isabel wasn't attempting to win him over; he had spent years surrounded by sycophants, or those who agreed with everything he said. He didn't seem to intimidate her in the slightest. It was both unsettling and refreshing at the same time. He had a reputation for being frigid and unyielding, which made most people afraid of him no matter where he went.He wished he could have said more and asked her a question that would tell him anything, anything, more about the person beneath the composed façade. Rather, he simply nodded while maintaining a formal tone of voice. "You appear to be well-versed in your field. What is the length of your tenure at the foundation?
Isabel took his straight stare without recoiling. "Just over two years." Prior to that, I worked for several nonprofit organizations, primarily in the areas of education and poverty reduction. This collaboration with Bellamy Enterprises is among the most important alliances I have ever been a part of.
Alexander's eyebrow went up. "You have to have enthusiasm for what you do."
He caught the tiny flash of her smile faltering for a moment. She answered, her voice growing hushed, "Yes, I am." "The work is important."
Something felt intimate and personal beneath their remarks. He sensed a depth to the narrative that their brief talk had not yet addressed. Isabel, however, looked down at her watch before he could push any farther.
She gathered her folder and added sheepishly, "I have another meeting in twenty minutes." However, I'll give you these documents to look over. Please get in touch if you have any questions.
Alexander got up from his chair at the same time she did. Even though it was a small gesture, at that moment it seemed significant.
He wasn't prepared for her to go just yet. He required more time with her.
"I appreciate you stopping by," he added, holding out his hand.
Isabel accepted it with a hard yet polished grip. Alexander felt a sudden jolt, almost like a spark, when their hands made contact. Their eyes met for a second, and something changed in the air between them.
Isabel answered calmly, "Of course," but her gaze lingered on his for a little too long. Subsequently, she removed her hand, allowing her composed exterior to reappear. Alexander watched her go as she turned to depart, his mind racing with ideas he was unable to fully process. He had always taken great satisfaction in his discipline and ability to keep personal affairs apart from business. However, Isabel had caught him off guard, and he wasn't sure how to respond for the first time in a long time.
Alexander sat in his office that evening, watching the cityscape sparkle outside the windows. Though the papers Isabel had given him were arranged on his desk, he was not thinking about the figures or estimates. She was to blame.
There was something about Isabel that had gotten past his well-laid barriers. He had been constructing an invulnerable persona for years,of being impervious to feelings or intimate relationships. In his world, it was a must. Feelings and relationships were liabilities that took attention away from the true objective of retaining control and power.
Isabel, though, was unique. She didn't fall into any of the tidy classifications he'd made for the individuals in his life. She wasn't an ally, a competitor, or even a friend. She was a mystery, really. And that was her hazardous quality.
Alexander was the first to see how readily emotions may get in the way of things. His past was replete with unsuccessful relationships with women who were enticed by his fame, fortune, and power. However, none of them had really laid eyes on him—the man with the money. And to be honest, he'd never allowed them.
But Isabel was not like any other person. Neither his wealth nor his status seemed to fascinate her. She didn't even appear to acknowledge it at all, actually. And he was intrigued by that in a way that eluded him.
The buzzing of his phone startled him out of his reverie. Emily had sent him a message to remind him that tomorrow night was the charity event that he was supposed to attend. He gave an inner grunt. These parties always involved the same things: networking with business magnates, engaging in lengthy small conversations with affluent benefactors, and upholding Alexander Bellamy's public persona as the untouchable billionaire. The entire concept of it drained him.
But then he had an idea. Given her position with the charity, Isabel was probably going to be at the gala.
Something excited him at the prospect of seeing her again—something he hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe this wouldn't be such a boring occasion after all.
Alexander arrived the following evening to find the gala already underway. The glittering chandeliers of the Grand Hyatt ballroom allowed the socialites, business titans, and benefactors of New York to mingle. A live orchestra played softly in the background while servers walked amongst the guests with trays of hors d'oeuvres and champagne.
As usual, Alexander became the life of the party as soon as he entered. Individuals gathered around him, ready to greet him, strike up a discussion, and get their picture taken with the man who had the power to turn fortunes around with a single choice.But none of them piqued his curiosity tonight. He looked around the room, trying to find the one person he truly wanted to see.
He saw her standing beside a table at the far end of the ballroom with a few other people who appeared to be donors. She wore a simple, sleek black gown that was subtle and lovely. Alexander felt a tug in his chest as she smiled at something one of the donors said—her hair put up to show off the lovely curve of her neck.
He approached her without pausing to consider his actions, his confident demeanor concealing the growing sense of anticipation within him.She was in the middle of a conversation when he got to her, but for a split second, astonishment appeared on her face as her eyes darted to his.
"Mr. Bellamy," she said in a courteous yet circumspect tone.
"Isabel," he answered in a tone that was quieter than normal. "I was surprised to see you here."
Her eyebrow went up. This is a fundraising event for the foundation that I am employed with. I would be here, of course.
Even for him, the sound of his laughter was strange. Yes. I ought to have been aware.
A pause occurred, and an unexpressed tension suddenly charged the air between them. Alexander was aware that people were staring at him, but for once, he didn't mind. Right now, she is the only thing that matters.
"Want to come out for a drink with me?" he inquired, sounding more subdued and vulnerable.
Isabel lingered momentarily, examining him with her gaze. She then gave a slight nod of agreement. Yes.
The din of the gala receding as they moved toward the bar, the crowd appearing to part for them. Alexander felt, for the first time in years, a tiny breach in the wall he had erected around his heart, a fracture in his armor. And he wasn't terrified of it for reasons he couldn't quite put his finger on.
For perhaps, just possibly, Isabel was the one who could make it through.