"I'll join you. That way, no one will have anything to say. Just three friends catching up. What do you think?" Claire asked with a wink.
Alex nodded slowly, though his appetite had vanished. Though he didn't like the idea of Emma going out with another male, it was better Claire was there than have Emma and whoever the guy be alone.
"Fine," he said after a moment, pushing his plate aside. "I'm tired. I think I'll head up early tonight."
Without waiting for a response, he stood and left the room.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Claire burst into laughter.
"Claire!" Emma scolded, her face red with embarrassment. "That wasn't fair."
Claire grinned wickedly. "Everything's fair in the game of love, Emma. Trust me, he's seething right now, and that's exactly what we need."
Emma shook her head, guilt and unease swirling inside her. "I don't want to hurt him, Claire."
Claire's smile softened. "You're not hurting him, Emma. You're making him realize what he's about to lose. And that's the only way we're going to win this."
Emma didn't respond, but her thoughts raced as she replayed Alex's reaction in her mind, wondering if Claire's tactics would bring them closer—or drive him further away.
As Alex climbed the stairs, the faint hum of Claire and Emma's conversation reached him, mingled with the clink of plates. He felt a pang in his chest, a sensation he couldn't quite name but which refused to be ignored.
Was it jealousy? Of course he was jealous. Why would she so casually talk about another man like that to him when they had shared that kiss just last night? Did it really mean nothing to her?
He shut the door to his room behind him and leaned against it, running a hand through his hair.
Even though it seemed like that was what Emma wanted, the thought of her going out with someone else still churned in his mind.
The idea of another man seeing her smile, hearing her laugh—the way she used to with him—made his fists clench involuntarily.
Why does it bother me this much? he thought. This is what she wanted—a life that didn't involve him and his family drama. And that was good. As long as she was happy. He told himself.
But no matter how much he thought about it, tonight had shaken him. Claire's words, her deliberate teasing, had peeled back the veneer of control he had been clinging to.
And Emma's acknowledgment of Chris's lingering feelings? That had cut deeper than he cared to admit. Yet, there was nothing he could do.
Away from there, Hunter sat at the far corner of the dimly lit lounge, his fingers casually drumming against the mahogany table.
The atmosphere buzzed with quiet energy—a mix of murmured conversations, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter.
The faint scent of leather from the chairs blended with the smoky undertone of aged whiskey wafting through the air. Soft jazz played in the background, its sultry notes weaving into the hum of the space, while a waiter moved between tables, balancing trays with practiced ease.
Hunter's lips curved into a smug smile as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. Ivy, the ever-dominant and unflinching businesswoman, had finally taken the bait.
Her call earlier, confirming his acceptance and call to work, was proof she couldn't ignore her restaurant's declining reputation. He knew she would definitely call him and her doing so made him even more happy.
He chuckled under his breath, his mind already strategizing now that she had taken the bait.
He knew Ivy had her own office—a fortress where she likely thought she was untouchable.
But now that he was officially in the fold, he needed to figure out how to breach that fortress and gain her trust. He wasn't in a rush, though.
One month was a long time to do what he needed to do. He had time, and he was nothing if not patient. The satisfaction of seeing her guarded exterior crack would be worth every effort.
His thoughts were interrupted as Derek strode into the lounge, spotting him immediately. They exchanged a firm handshake before Derek dropped into the seat across from him.
"What's up, man?" Derek asked, signaling the waiter for his usual drink.
Hunter leaned back, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "She fell for the first trap."
Derek raised an eyebrow. "She gave you the job?" he asked and Hunter nodded.
Derek cocked a brow. "She employed you doesn't mean she's about to fall for your charms, though. Maybe she's actually taking pity on you thinking you really need the job."
"She will," Hunter said confidently, taking a sip of his drink.
Derek shook his head, unconvinced. "You're too cocky for your own good. I still say you should let it go. Just focus on the reason your father sent you to Frenchies and Fries in the first place."
Hunter's jaw tightened slightly at the mention of his father. "There's no harm in getting both," he replied, his tone casual but edged with determination.
Derek sighed, leaning forward. "What's your next move then?"
"I don't know yet," Hunter admitted, his gaze shifting to the swirling ice in his glass. "I'll figure it out once I start tomorrow. See how the dynamic works and where I can push."
"Whatever," Derek said, shrugging as their drinks arrived. He took a long sip, his eyes scanning the room. Suddenly, his expression shifted, and he elbowed Hunter.
"Look who just walked in," Derek said, nodding toward a group of women entering the lounge. They were dressed to impress, their laughter carrying above the murmur of the crowd.
Hunter barely glanced at them before returning his attention to his drink. "Not interested."
"Not even a little?" Derek teased, raising an eyebrow.
"Not until I've gotten Ivy exactly where I want her," Hunter said, his tone resolute.
Derek let out a low whistle. "That sounds dangerously close to obsession. Or maybe…" He smirked. "You're already halfway to falling for her."
Hunter scoffed, his expression hardening. "Never. Someone as proud and insufferable as Ivy? Not a chance."
Derek leaned back, an amused smile playing on his lips. "Let's hope you don't. That is, if you're not already halfway there."
Hunter didn't reply, but Derek's words lingered in his mind longer than he liked. He dismissed the thought quickly, telling himself that Ivy was nothing more than a challenge—and one he was determined to win.