Chapter 2

By 7 PM, I was at the door of Team A, laptop in hand, despite being unwilling.

I had no other choice. Sometimes one had to go with the flow.

The place was empty except for Lucas.

He'd swapped his crisp shirt for a black T-shirt, trading his daytime edge for a laid-back, almost homey vibe.

When I walked in, he pointed to the chair across from him. "Sit."

I pulled out the chair, sat down, and opened my laptop, keeping things strictly professional. "This is my rough outline. Take a look."

Without saying anything, he got up and headed to the break room.

Before I knew it, a steaming cup of coffee was set down in front of me.

"Your dark circles are practically dragging on the floor," Lucas said.

I froze for a second.

"The conference room lights are so harsh that they make you look so pale," he added.

I knew he wouldn't say anything nice.

I ignored him and focused on my proposal.

The discussion was brutal.

Our marketing philosophies were polar opposites.

I wanted to grab attention fast. We should kick things off with buzz and traffic to get the market moving.

Lucas, meanwhile, preferred a steady, methodical strategy. She wanted to start with user research, then target his campaigns with pinpoint accuracy.

"Burning through cash like that, how much ROI do you really think you'll see?" Lucas frowned.

"And if you keep moving at a snail's pace, by the time you finally act, the opportunity will be stone cold," I shot back, refusing to back down.

We kept fighting, got stuck, and then fought some more.

Minute by minute, the wall clock finally hit eleven.

We couldn't get past the first page of the proposal.

My stomach started acting up again. It was the same old problem.

I fished out some pills for my stomach from my bag and washed them down with cold water.

Lucas's gaze landed on me. "You skipped your meal?"

"I don't have time," I replied.

Silently, he got up and grabbed his phone.

I figured he was about to order some food, and for a second, I thought maybe he was not totally heartless after all.

But instead, he walked over to the window and made a call. "Yeah, I'm still at the office. Nothing major. I'm a little hungry. Okay, take it easy on the road."

His voice was soft, with a gentleness I never expected from him.

I bet he was calling his girlfriend.

It made sense. No way was he single.

Feeling inexplicably annoyed, I slapped the file onto the table. "Mr. Grant, if you need to handle some personal business, I can leave first."

"What's the rush?" Lucas hung up and came back over. "We don't have a plan yet."

"We're complete opposites. There's no way this is going to work."

"Then let's find some common ground."

It was easy for him to say.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

An elegantly dressed woman walked in, carrying a lunchbox. "Lucas, I brought you some late-night snacks."

She was beautiful, with tasteful makeup, and when her eyes landed on me, there was a hint of curiosity. "And who's this?"

"It's one of my colleagues, Peyton Sullivan," Lucas said simply.

"Hello, I'm his fiancée, Monica Drew." She reached out her hand, and her smile was so flawless that it felt plastic.

My heart dropped, like someone had slammed it with a hammer.

I took her hand, my fingertips ice cold. "Hello."

Monica opened the lunchbox, and the delicious aroma immediately filled the office.

It was seafood stew.

She ladled out some and handed it to Lucas. "I know your stomach's sensitive, so I made this for you."

Then she turned to me, a hint of apology in her eyes. "Sorry, Ms. Sullivan, I didn't know you'd be here. I only brought enough for Lucas."

I forced a smile. "It's fine. I'm not hungry."

But my stomach was protesting more fiercely now.

Lucas held the bowl of stew, looked at me, then at Monica.

Then he slid the bowl over to me. "Here, you eat first."

Monica and I were both caught off guard.

Monica's face fell instantly. "Lucas, I made this for yo—"

"She's got a stomachache," Lucas cut her off, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I stared at the steaming bowl of stew in front of me, not sure if I should reach for it or sit there.

The pain in my stomach and the sour ache in my chest twisted together.

In the end, I slid the bowl back to him. "Thanks for the offer, Mr. Grant, but I'll pass. Now that your fiancée's here, I'll leave you two alone."

I stood up and grabbed my laptop. "We'll talk about the proposal tomorrow."

With that, I walked out of the office without looking back.

As I stepped out of the building, the cold night air stung my face.

I pulled my coat tighter around me, but it didn't help. The chill seeped right through.

The pain in my stomach was getting worse.

I squatted down by the curb, doubled over, unable to straighten up from the pain.

A black Mercedes S-Class rolled to a stop right in front of me.

The window lowered, and there was Lucas behind the wheel, his face coming into view. "Get in."