Lila adjusted her blazer one final time before stepping out of her car. The Valentino suit—a graduation gift to herself—felt like armor. After a week of disappointment and unanswered texts from Caleb, she needed the confidence boost, even if the price tag still made her wince.
'First power suit,' she thought, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her skirt. 'Time to look confident , even if I don't feel it yet.'
The Firms glass doors whooshed open, greeting her with the familiar scent of coffee and printer toner. As the newest junior copywriter, her desk was tucked into a corner of the open-plan office, but today she walked to it with purpose, heels clicking against the polished floor.
"Someone's dressed to kill," Sarah, her cubicle neighbor, whispered with an approving nod. "Special meeting?"
"Just felt like it," Lila replied, settling into her chair and booting up her computer. The truth—that she'd dressed up to feel less like the girl whose boyfriend forgot her graduation—stayed locked behind her lips.
The morning crawled by in a blur of client emails and campaign drafts. Around eleven, Mark from Creative stopped by her desk, dropping off another stack of projects that needed review.
"The Anderson account needs these by Thursday," he said, barely looking up from his phone. "And Jennifer wants to see the coffee shop taglines before lunch."
Lila nodded, adding them to her growing to-do list. Three weeks into the job, and she was still learning to juggle the constant stream of demands. She was deep in the middle of rewording a particularly troublesome slogan when Sarah tapped her shoulder.
"Mail for you," she said, holding out a cream-colored envelope. "Fancy."
Lila turned it over in her hands. The paper was thick, expensive, with her name written in elegant script. Inside was a lunch invitation for 1 PM at Le Petit Jardin. No signature.
Her heart did a little flip. 'Adrian?' The thought came unbidden, bringing with it memories of intense gray eyes and that knowing smirk.
"Good news?" Sarah asked, noticing her expression.
"Lunch invitation," Lila said, tucking the card away. "I should probably start getting ready soon."
At 12:45, she gathered her purse and touched up her lipstick in the bathroom mirror. Le Petit Jardin was only a few blocks away, but the summer heat had her wishing she'd chosen lighter clothing.
The restaurant was cool and dim after the bright sunshine. The maître d' led her through tables of business people having elegant lunches, to a secluded corner where—her steps faltered—Caleb waited.
'Oh.' The disappointment hit her like a physical thing, followed immediately by guilt. 'Why am I disappointed? This is what I wanted, isn't it?'
"You look beautiful," Caleb said, standing to greet her. He was wearing his usual office attire—crisp button-down, perfectly knotted tie, everything about him speaking of stability and success.
"Thanks," she managed, settling into her chair. "This is... unexpected."
"I know I've been absent lately." He looked genuinely contrite. "I wanted to make it up to you."
The waiter appeared with water and menus, giving Lila a moment to collect herself. The silence that followed felt heavy, laden with things unsaid.
"How's the new job?" Caleb asked finally.
"Good. Busy." She studied the menu without really seeing it. "Lots to learn."
"I remember my first weeks at the firm. It gets easier."
The conversation limped along through appetizers and main courses. Caleb talked about his latest project, about office politics, about plans for the future. All things that used to fascinate her, but now...
'When did his stories become so predictable?' she caught herself thinking. 'When did I start checking the time?'
"I was thinking," Caleb said as their plates were cleared, "maybe we could take a trip together? Barbados, maybe? You always talked about wanting to see the Caribbean."
"Did I?" The words came out sharper than intended. She softened them with a smile. "Sorry, I should get back to the office. Deadlines."
"Let me walk you out."
At her car, he leaned in for a kiss. Lila turned slightly, letting his lips land on her cheek instead.
"Dinner at my place tonight?" he asked, trying to hide his hurt. "I'll cook."
"Okay," she said, not meeting his eyes. "Text me the time?"
The afternoon dragged. Lila stared at her computer screen, the words blurring together as she thought about the dinner ahead. She should be excited. Caleb was trying. He was making an effort. So why did it feel like an obligation?
By six, most of her colleagues had left. Sarah waved goodbye on her way out, leaving Lila alone with her thoughts and a half-finished project. Finally, at seven, she admitted defeat and began packing up.
The parking garage was nearly empty, her footsteps echoing in the concrete space. She was reaching for her car door when a sleek black Escalade glided to a stop nearby, moving with the silent precision of expensive engineering. The driver, a man built like a mountain in a tailored black suit, stepped out and opened the rear passenger door.
Adrian Ravencroft emerged like darkness taking form. His black Tom Ford suit was impeccably cut, making him look like he'd stepped off a magazine cover. A blood-red pocket square provided the only splash of color, matched by the ruby glinting in his silver tie pin.
"Leaving so soon?" His voice carried across the space between them, smooth as aged bourbon.
"I have plans," Lila said firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.
"Dinner plans?" Adrian's eyes glinted with amusement. "Must be someone special to deserve you in that suit."
Lila flushed. "That's none of your business."
"Maybe not." He took another step closer, and the garage suddenly felt too warm. "But I'm offering you a better option. Have dinner with me instead."
"You don't take no for an answer, do you?"
"I've never heard a no that meant no." He reached out, slowly enough that she could move away if she wanted, and adjusted her collar where it had folded wrong. "Only nos that mean 'convince me.'"
His fingers brushed her neck, sending shivers down her spine. 'This is dangerous,' she thought. 'He's dangerous.'
"I can't," she said, but it sounded weak even to her ears.
"Can't?" Adrian's smile widened. "Or won't?"
"Both. Neither. I should go."
"Should," he repeated, making the word sound like a prison sentence. "Always should. Don't you ever want to just... want?"
The question hung in the air between them, heavy with possibility. Adrian stepped back, gesturing to the waiting Escalade.
"One dinner. That's all I'm asking. If you're not intrigued by dessert, James will drive you wherever you want to go."
'Say no,' her conscience whispered. 'Think of your plans. Think of commitments.'
"Where?" The word escaped before she could stop it.
"Somewhere worthy of that outfit." His eyes traveled over her appreciatively. "Somewhere you won't have to pretend to be less than what you are."
"And what am I?"
"Extraordinary." He said it simply, like it was an obvious fact. "Even if you don't know it yet."
----
The Escalade's interior was just about as good as luxury could get. All black leather and subtle lighting. Adrian sat beside her with casual grace, close enough that she could smell his cologne—something expensive and intoxicating that made her thoughts blur at the edges.
"Nervous?" he asked, watching her with those storm-gray eyes.
"Should I be?"
His laugh was low and rich. "There's that word again. Should." He shifted slightly, his knee brushing against hers. "Tell me something, Lila. When was the last time you did something purely because you wanted to?"
The question caught her off guard. She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again.
"That's what I thought." His smile held a hint of triumph.
They rode in silence for a moment, the city lights streaming past the tinted windows. Lila was acutely aware of every point where their bodies almost touched, of the electricity that seemed to crackle in the space between them.
"You know," Adrian said suddenly, "you haven't asked where we're going."
"Would you tell me if I did?"
He turned to face her fully, and Lila's breath caught. In the dim light, his features were sharp as carved marble, his eyes holding secrets she both feared and yearned to discover.
"I'll tell you anything you want to know," he said softly. "But I don't think you're ready for all the answers yet."
'God, he's good,' she thought, fighting the urge to lean closer. 'Too good. Nobody should be this smooth.'
The car slowed, and James's voice came through the intercom. "Five minutes, sir."
Adrian reached for a hidden compartment, producing a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes. The pop of the cork made Lila jump slightly.
"Dutch courage?" he offered, pouring with practiced ease.
"I shouldn't—"
"Ah." He pressed a glass into her hand, his fingers lingering against hers. "What did we say about 'should'?"
The champagne was perfect, of course. Everything about him was perfect in a way that set off warning bells in her head. And yet...
"You do this often?" she asked, trying to sound casual. "Sweep women off to mysterious destinations?"
"Often?" He considered this, swirling his champagne. "No. But then again..." His eyes met hers over the rim of his glass. "You're not like other women, are you, Lila?"
The way he said her name made it sound like a caress. 'Focus,' she commanded herself. 'Don't let him get to you.'
"You don't know anything about me."
"I know you're curious." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I know you're tired of playing it safe. I know that right now, your heart is racing—" his eyes dropped to her pulse point "—not because you're afraid, but because you're excited."
Lila took a long sip of champagne to hide her reaction. He wasn't wrong. That was the terrifying part.
The Escalade turned onto a cobblestone street, the change in texture thrumming through the vehicle. Adrian's hand found hers in the darkness.
"Last chance to back out," he murmured, his thumb tracing circles on her palm.
Lila knew she should pull away. Should demand to be taken home. Should...
Instead, she curled her fingers around his. "Where's the fun in that?"
His answering smile was pure sin, and Lila had the distinct feeling she'd just made a deal with the devil himself.
The car came to a stop, and James appeared to open their door. As Adrian helped her out, Lila found herself standing before a building that seemed to exist in a world of its own—old world elegance meeting modern luxury.
"Ready?" Adrian asked, offering his arm.
'No,' Lila thought, even as she took it. 'I'm not ready at all.'
But as they walked toward the entrance, her phone buzzing forgotten in her purse, she realized something that thrilled and terrified her in equal measure: she didn't want to be ready. For once in her life, she wanted to be reckless.
And Adrian Ravencroft? He was reckless personified.