Chapter 4

That evening, I arrived early, as usual, at our go-to Michelin-starred French restaurant.

After seven years together, waiting for him had become something like muscle memory.

While I waited, a call came from London.

It was Ethan—my old business school rival and the executive vice president at Pioneer Global. We'd crossed paths again recently during the Victoria merger negotiations.

His voice, smooth and warm, came through the phone.

"Nat," he said, "have you thought any more about joining Pioneer, like I suggested?"

He sighed. "That company of yours is too small for your talent. Julian—he doesn't know the first thing about valuing an ace."

It was his third attempt to recruit me.

The first time was seven years ago. I'd given up a high-paying job offer to help Julian start his little garage-stage startup. A skeleton crew, laughable salary. I even chipped in for rent.

Ethan had called me crazy. He'd tried hard to change my mind back then, but I wouldn't budge.

The second time was just a few days ago—at our last negotiation table. He was sitting across from me as a direct competitor. I pinned him down with a strategy he couldn't counter. After the meeting, he'd looked at me—half impressed, half defeated.

"Nat," he said, "word is you're earning less than my assistant at your own company. Come work for me. Don't let your talent rot for someone who doesn't see it."

I laughed and declined. Rot? How could it rot? It was Julian's company. The one we built together from scratch. Seven years of sweat, tears, and trust.

And now came the third time.

I paused for three seconds and motioned the waiter to open their best bottle of red.

Then I returned to the call, my voice calm and clear. "Send me the offer. I'll start next Tuesday."

There was a pause on his end—two seconds of silence—then Ethan burst into laughter.

"Deal! I'll have HR draft the contract right away." He didn't want to give me a chance to change my mind. The line clicked dead.

I let out a small smile, just as another message lit up my phone screen.

[Change of plans. Chloe couldn't wait to see the Eiffel Tower at night. We rescheduled and flew ahead. You can have dinner alone. I've got a surprise for you when I'm back.]

Seconds later, my feed refreshed with a new tag from Chloe—a public post directed at me. "Thanks for making my dream come true! In return, tomorrow I'm treating you to a Michelin dinner."

The photo? Chloe holding Julian's hand, the Eiffel Tower lit up in the background.

The composition, their pose—exactly the same as a photo we had taken seven years ago.

I stared at it for two seconds, then closed the screen without flinching.

I reopened my chat with Ethan. [Consider this a welcome gift. That $200 million European merger deal—think Pioneer might be interested?]