Chapter 5: Second Chances in the City

After graduation, I landed a good job, interning at a well-known media group.

One day, a client came in, and my supervisor said the client had specifically asked for me.

In the conference room was a young, familiar face.

He looked a bit different—more mature, still handsome.

He asked everyone else to leave, leaving just the two of us.

“Laurel, long time no see.” The boss smiled, but sounded distant.

I replied politely, “Hello, Mr. Linwood.”

He looked a bit disappointed. “No need to be so formal.”

“It’s just work—better to keep it professional.”

“Alright, then I’ll be direct. I want you to handle this project.”

I panicked a little. “I’m just an intern—I’m not ready to take on a project alone.”

He misunderstood. “Still mad at me?”

“No, I’ve long since forgotten the past.”

“Let’s have lunch together.”

“I still have work—maybe next time?” I really was swamped.

“No, today’s the day.” He stood and left.

Ten minutes later, my supervisor called me in, excited.

“Laurel, Mr. Linwood from Linwood Holdings just called to invite you to lunch. Get that contract signed today!”

“But I have other projects…”

“Give them to Rachel. Focus on Mr. Linwood—we’re counting on you this quarter.”

A message came in:

“Harper’s, I’ve reserved a table. See you at noon.”

I grabbed two contracts and went to meet him.

He was already waiting, a bottle of expensive wine on the table.

He handed me the menu—everything priced in dollars. My half-month’s salary would barely cover a dish.

He noticed my hesitation.

“Don’t worry, it’s my family’s restaurant—no charge.”

Embarrassed, I ordered something modest.

“Laurel, don’t be so awkward. I know what you’re like.”

He tried to put me at ease.

“People change. We’re not who we were.”

I didn’t know why I said that, but it just came out.

He fell silent, staring into his wine glass.

The meal was long and quiet, only the sound of cutlery.

Afterward, I laid out the contracts.

“Mr. Linwood, if everything’s in order, here’s to a good partnership.”

He didn’t even look, just signed his name.

After that, we only met occasionally for work—just polite greetings.

The Linwood project went well, the client was happy, and signed for three more quarters. I got a bonus and was made permanent early.

My first Christmas after graduation, I worked overtime until the 23rd. I bought a ticket home for the morning of Christmas Eve.

I called home in advance—my mom said my dad would pick me up.

But when I landed, it was Mason waiting.

He wore a camel coat, looking tall and striking.

“Your mom asked me to pick you up.” He took my suitcase and handed me a hot latte.

“Are you spending Christmas with Aunt Diane?”

“Yeah.”

“What about my dad? Mom said he was coming.”

“He had a last-minute work thing.”

“Oh.” The mood was a little awkward.

On the way home, a snowstorm blocked the road—we were stuck for half an hour.

“Hungry?” he asked.

I hadn’t eaten all morning, skipped the plane meal—so I was starving.

“A little.”

“I’ll list some dishes for you, okay?”

?

“Prime rib, lobster roll, mac and cheese, roast turkey, roast chicken, roast duck…”

He recited it like a stand-up comic, really getting into it.

If you’d told me back then that the cold boss would try so hard to make a girl laugh, I wouldn’t have believed it.

As a kid, I was always the one cheering him up.

“You must’ve used that trick on a lot of girls.”

“Don’t say that—I only ever did it for you.” He looked at me in the rearview mirror.

“Oh, sure.”

“Really, I swear. If I’m lying, I’m a dog.”

“What did dogs ever do to you?”

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