Page 9
Story: Only Ever Mine
“Mr. Valen,” she said, her voice steady but cool. She wiped her hands on a towel and stepped closer. “To what do I owe the honor? I wasn’t expecting you.”
“That’s the point of a surprise,” I said, a slow smile tugging at my lips.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, though I caught the corner of her mouth twitch. “If you’ve come for dinner, I’m afraid we’re fully booked.”
“Actually, I came for an answer.”
“An answer?” Her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head.
I leaned against the counter, keeping my gaze locked on hers. “At the gala, I asked you to dinner. You never gave me an answer.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she held my stare. “That’s because I had no way to contact you.”
“That’s fair,” I admitted. “Though I doubt it would’ve been hard to find me.”
“I figured you’d forgotten,” she said, her tone casual, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes.
“Forgotten?” I echoed, stepping closer. “Why would I forget?”
She shrugged, feigning indifference. “Because someone else might’ve caught your attention.”
I chuckled softly, lowering my voice. “No one else has caught my attention, Scarlett. Trust me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
Her breath hitched—just barely—but she recovered quickly. “Is that so?”
“It is.” I let the words linger, watching her process them.
Her walls were up, that much was clear, but I wasn’t about to back down.
“I’ve also done a little research,” I said.
“Research?”
I nodded, straightening. “On your restaurant. I hear Amélie is doing well, but you’ve been looking for an investor to expand. Am I right?”
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked caught off guard. “You’ve done your homework,” she said carefully.
“I like to be prepared.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her expression guarded. “And what are you offering, Mr. Valen?”
“Christian,” I corrected. “And what I’m offering is a partnership. I have the resources to help you take Amélie to the next level—multiple locations, international growth, the works.”
She crossed her arms, skeptical. “Why would a man like you want to invest in a small restaurant like mine?”
“Because it’s not just any restaurant,” I said, stepping closer. “It’s yours.”
Her breath caught, and I didn’t miss the way her eyes flickered down to my mouth before snapping back up.
The chemistry crackled between us, undeniable and electric.
“Christian…” She trailed off, searching for the right words.
“You don’t have to decide now,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Think about it. We can discuss the details later. But there’s one condition.”
Her brows lifted. “Condition?”
“That dinner you owe me.”
“That’s the point of a surprise,” I said, a slow smile tugging at my lips.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, though I caught the corner of her mouth twitch. “If you’ve come for dinner, I’m afraid we’re fully booked.”
“Actually, I came for an answer.”
“An answer?” Her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head.
I leaned against the counter, keeping my gaze locked on hers. “At the gala, I asked you to dinner. You never gave me an answer.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she held my stare. “That’s because I had no way to contact you.”
“That’s fair,” I admitted. “Though I doubt it would’ve been hard to find me.”
“I figured you’d forgotten,” she said, her tone casual, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes.
“Forgotten?” I echoed, stepping closer. “Why would I forget?”
She shrugged, feigning indifference. “Because someone else might’ve caught your attention.”
I chuckled softly, lowering my voice. “No one else has caught my attention, Scarlett. Trust me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
Her breath hitched—just barely—but she recovered quickly. “Is that so?”
“It is.” I let the words linger, watching her process them.
Her walls were up, that much was clear, but I wasn’t about to back down.
“I’ve also done a little research,” I said.
“Research?”
I nodded, straightening. “On your restaurant. I hear Amélie is doing well, but you’ve been looking for an investor to expand. Am I right?”
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked caught off guard. “You’ve done your homework,” she said carefully.
“I like to be prepared.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her expression guarded. “And what are you offering, Mr. Valen?”
“Christian,” I corrected. “And what I’m offering is a partnership. I have the resources to help you take Amélie to the next level—multiple locations, international growth, the works.”
She crossed her arms, skeptical. “Why would a man like you want to invest in a small restaurant like mine?”
“Because it’s not just any restaurant,” I said, stepping closer. “It’s yours.”
Her breath caught, and I didn’t miss the way her eyes flickered down to my mouth before snapping back up.
The chemistry crackled between us, undeniable and electric.
“Christian…” She trailed off, searching for the right words.
“You don’t have to decide now,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Think about it. We can discuss the details later. But there’s one condition.”
Her brows lifted. “Condition?”
“That dinner you owe me.”
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