The restaurant was closing. I hadn’t even realized it until the waitstaff started gathering the last of the glasses and quietly stacking chairs around us. Time had slipped away, and I couldn’t quite grasp how. My conversation with Carter had been unexpectedly engaging, enough to pull my attention away from everything I had intended to focus on.

We walked toward the exit together, the soft hum of the night settling in as the warm glow of the restaurant lights faded behind us. My heels clicked against the pavement as we stepped outside, and the cool evening air brushed against my skin.

I tried to maintain a steady pace, but my mind was racing. He was going to ask me to do this again. It was clear. People like Carter—wealthy, successful, accustomed to getting what they wanted—didn’t let chances pass them by. I was sure I’d made enough of an impression to deserve a follow-up.

But I didn’t want that. I was married to my work, my tech company consuming all my focus and energy. There wasn’t space for someone like him in my life, no matter how charming or intriguing he appeared. I had worked too hard to build what I had, and I wasn’t about to let anything distract me from my ambitions.

I glanced up at him as we walked, trying to decipher his expression, searching for hints in his eyes that might give me a clue about what he would say next. But his face was inscrutable, his blue eyes steady and calm, like the surface of a still lake.

That unsettled me. I prided myself on being able to read people—especially men—but Carter was different. I couldn’t grasp what he was thinking, and that left me feeling uneasy. Why couldn’t I figure him out?

Then, his car pulled up to the curb—a sleek, black Bentley. The valet stepped out, handing the keys to Carter as he held the door open.

For a moment, I thought he would step into the car and end the night with a polite goodbye. But he didn’t. Instead, he turned to me, his eyes catching the light from the nearby streetlamp.

Let’s—he started, his voice low and deliberate, but I cut him off. “It was nice,” I said quickly, forcing a smile even though I wasn’t sure I believed it. “But we should never do this again.” The silence that followed felt heavier than I anticipated. I didn’t dare look at him directly, my gaze fixed on the street ahead as I braced myself for his reaction. Surely, he wasn’t accustomed to being dismissed like this. But I couldn’t let it go any further. There was no place for someone like Carter Dane in my life. I was already juggling too much with my company, and getting involved with a man like him would only complicate matters. I didn’t need distractions. I couldn’t afford them.

 I heard him shift slightly, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But when I finally looked up, he remained calm, unreadable. His expression hadn’t changed, as if my words hadn’t affected him at all. I expected him to get into his car and drive away, leaving me to grapple with the strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. But he didn’t. Instead, Carter stood there beside me, waiting in silence. I couldn’t understand why. My heart raced, my breath caught as I wondered what he was thinking, why he hadn’t just left. 

Moments later, my own car—a sleek Aston Martin—pulled up to the curb, the engine’s sound smooth and low. I was grateful for the interruption. I turned toward the car, eager to escape the strange tension of the moment. Just as I reached for the door, I heard his voice again—calm, steady. “Goodbye, Lina.” I paused, my hand hovering over the handle as I turned to look at him one last time. 

There was something in his eyes that made my chest tighten, a flicker of something I couldn’t quite identify. But I pushed it down, shoving the feeling aside. I didn’t say anything as I slipped into the car, the door closing softly behind me. As the engine purred to life, I caught a glimpse of Carter still standing by his Bentley, watching and just like that the night was over.