Chapter 2: The Arrival of Savannah

But after Savannah Pierce appeared, everything changed.

It was like a sudden chill swept through the room—something invisible but inescapable. The easy rhythm between us stuttered, and I found myself holding my breath, waiting for something to go wrong.

At the time, I had entered the International Diamond Design Awards in Antwerp—the “Oscars” of diamond jewelry design, hosted by the World Diamond Center. I poured my heart into it.

I’d dreamed about this competition for years. My sketchbooks overflowed with ideas, and every night I fell asleep imagining Antwerp’s grand halls and the thrill of being recognized.

I worked countless nights for months. On the final day, as I left the office, Harrison was waiting for me outside.

The city was hushed, the air crisp with the promise of spring. Harrison leaned against his car, suit jacket slung over one shoulder, looking every bit the golden boy. His presence was a comfort I didn’t realize I needed until I saw him.

He stood tall, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. I frowned as I approached, teasing, “Smoking again?” and plucked it from his hand, tossing it into the trash.

He laughed, not protesting, just watching me with that familiar crooked smile. Even after a long day, he always found time for me.

Harrison watched me, lips curled into a half-smile. He was a tough boss—everyone else tiptoed around him—but he always let me get away with things. “All done?” he asked, voice gentle, softer than he used with anyone else. For a moment, the world felt small—just us, tucked away from everything else.

I nodded, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease a little. There was always a quiet pride in his eyes when I finished something big.

He reached out, ruffling my hair. “There’s still time. Want to polish it some more? Even though I’m a judge, I won’t go easy on you.”

I swatted his hand away, grinning. “You better not. I trust my work. If you go easy on me just because of us, I’d be pretty bummed.”

I looked at him, serious. “I trust my work. If you go easy on me just because of us, I’d be disappointed in you.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, still smiling at me. “Just kidding, why so serious?”

He grinned, that lopsided smile that always made my heart flutter. “How about we celebrate our great designer finishing the draft with your favorite—Southern home cooking?”

He knew I couldn’t resist fried chicken and biscuits. I almost laughed, teasing, “Harrison, when I get back from Belgium, I have something to tell you.”

His expression softened, and for a second, I thought he already knew. He turned, eyes full of playful amusement and something deeper, shining like the diamonds I’d polished.

He smiled and agreed cheerfully. The air between us was charged, as if everything was about to change.

He knew what I wanted to say.

I was going to confess to him.

My heart raced at the thought, but I was ready. It was time.

Then Savannah Pierce arrived.