Chapter Four
I couldn't focus for the rest of the day. Aria had left the conference room hours ago, but her presence lingered like the echo of a song I couldn't forget.
I sat at my desk, staring blankly at the blueprints in front of me. Normally, I could lose myself in the details—angles, measurements, the vision of a structure coming to life. But today, none of it held my attention.
All I could think about was the look in her eyes when she said she couldn't stay. The way her voice softened, like she was trying to protect both of us from something she didn't want to name.
I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. Why was she getting under my skin like this?
The knock on my office door startled me. "Come in," I called, straightening in my chair.
Claire poked her head in, holding a cup of coffee. "Thought you could use this. You've been zoning out all afternoon."
I forced a smile, taking the cup from her. "Thanks, Claire."
She lingered, her sharp eyes studying me. "Everything okay? You seem... distracted."
I hesitated, debating whether to confide in her. Claire had worked with me long enough to pick up on my moods, but I wasn't sure I was ready to explain what was going on—not when I barely understood it myself.
"I'm fine," I said finally. "Just a lot on my mind."
Claire gave me a skeptical look but didn't press. "Well, if you need anything, let me know. And don't forget, you've got the charity gala tomorrow night. They're expecting you to give a speech."
I groaned inwardly. The last thing I wanted was to make small talk with donors and board members, but I nodded. "Got it. Thanks for the reminder."
As she left, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the coffee cup in my hands. The gala was another obligation, another event I'd have to endure for the sake of appearances.
But then a thought struck me.
Aria had mentioned she worked with nonprofits. Was there a chance she'd be there tomorrow night?
The idea sent a jolt through me, and before I could stop myself, I was already imagining what it would be like to see her again. Would she flash me that playful smile? Would she run, like she always seemed to do? Or would she let me in, just a little?
I didn't have answers, but one thing was clear: I wasn't ready to let her go.
---
The next evening, I arrived at the gala dressed in a tailored black suit, the kind I usually wore to events like this. The ballroom was stunning, all glittering chandeliers and polished floors, with tables draped in crisp white linens. People mingled, their laughter and conversations blending into a pleasant hum.
But none of it mattered.
I scanned the room, searching for her. My heart sank as the minutes ticked by and there was no sign of Aria. I tried to shake off the disappointment, reminding myself that I was here for a reason—to support a good cause, to represent my firm.
Still, I couldn't stop glancing at the doors, hoping.
It wasn't until midway through the evening, as I stood at the edge of the room, drink in hand, that I saw her.
She was breathtaking.
Aria wore a deep emerald dress that hugged her figure perfectly, her dark hair swept to one side. She moved through the crowd with ease, her laughter lighting up the space around her. She didn't see me, not yet, and for a moment, I let myself just watch her.
When our eyes finally met, it was like the rest of the room disappeared.
Her steps faltered, her smile fading for just a second before she recovered. She turned back to the man she'd been speaking to, but her attention wasn't on him anymore. I could feel it—her awareness of me, like a current pulling us together.
I didn't hesitate. Setting my drink down, I crossed the room toward her, weaving through the crowd until I was standing just a few feet away.
"Aria," I said, my voice low enough that only she could hear.
She turned slowly, her expression carefully neutral. "Ethan. I didn't expect to see you here."
I raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you?"
Her lips curved into a small, wry smile. "Touché."
We stood there for a moment, the air between us charged with unspoken tension. Finally, I broke the silence. "Can we talk? Somewhere quieter?"
Aria hesitated, her gaze flicking toward the man she'd been speaking to. But after a moment, she nodded. "Okay."
I led her out onto the balcony, where the cool night air was a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. The city spread out before us, its lights twinkling like stars.
"So," she said, leaning against the railing. "What's on your mind?"
I leaned beside her, close enough to feel the warmth of her presence but not touching. "You. Last night. This." I gestured between us. "Whatever it is we're doing."
She looked away, her expression unreadable. "Ethan, I told you—I'm not looking for anything permanent. I don't stay in one place. You know that."
"I know what you said," I replied, my voice firm but gentle. "But I don't believe you. Not entirely. If last night didn't mean anything to you, you wouldn't be here."
Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought she might walk away. But then she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "It's not that it didn't mean anything. It's that I don't know how to let it mean something."
Her words hit me like a punch to the chest, and I realized just how deep her walls went.
I reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Then let's figure it out together."
For a moment, she didn't move, her eyes searching mine. And then, slowly, she nodded.
"Okay," she whispered.
It wasn't a promise. It wasn't a declaration. But it was a start.