Chapter 5: Dinner, Drama, and Old Wounds

A regular restaurant.

It smelled like garlic and fresh bread, and the tables were packed with young couples and families.

I arrived a bit early. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw Mr. Carter’s long legs stepping out of his luxury car.

He looked like he belonged on Wall Street, not in a neighborhood joint. I half expected him to order a martini.

As he was about to walk over, the driver stopped him, pointing at the restaurant and then at himself, as if to say he might’ve taken a wrong turn.

The driver was used to high-end places, so he seemed a bit out of his element.

Mr. Carter waved him off and kept walking.

He flashed a quick smile, trying to play it cool.

It looked like he was trying to be considerate of my feelings.

He didn’t want to make me feel out of place—classic Carter, always calculating.

As soon as he sat down, I grinned. “Next time, it’s fine to pick a Michelin place.”

I winked, letting him know I wasn’t intimidated.

He froze, then quickly got to the point. “Rachel set the dinner for the day after tomorrow at seven.”

He didn’t waste time on small talk—straight to business.

“Shouldn’t you prep in advance? Like you do for board meetings.” I gave him a sly look, teasing.

“Hm?”

He raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Explain what needs explaining, apologize for what needs apologizing—don’t miss a thing.”

I ticked off the points on my fingers, like a checklist.

“Shouldn’t I plan something romantic?”

He sounded uncertain, almost hopeful.

“Romance is fun when you’re dating. Right now, it’s just harassment.” I deadpanned, and he winced, taking it to heart.

Mr. Carter took a deep breath, his eyes saying, “I’m trying so hard to be patient.”

I’ve been mad at him for twenty years—what’s a little more?

I shrugged, letting him stew.

“By the way, why did Rachel Monroe bring that jewelry over?”

“Three months ago, at an auction, I bought it for her—four and a half million.”

He said it like it was pocket change, but I knew it meant more than that.

I remembered now.

On my coming-of-age day, Mom gave it to me.

A blue rose brooch, elegant and dazzling. It was stunning—almost too fancy for a regular day.

Thanks, Mom, for giving it up, and thanks, Dad, for paying for it.

I smiled, feeling a little sentimental.

So I decided to prod him further. “Anything else happen at that auction?”

He thought about it. “I bought another, smaller piece—not as valuable.”

“Who was that for?”

“A female classmate from back in school. She wanted it but didn’t have enough pocket money, so I bought it for her.”

His voice was casual, but I could hear the defensiveness underneath.

I said coldly, “Did her sweet little ‘thank you’ sound extra sugary?”

I couldn’t help myself—jealousy is hereditary. What can I say?

He sighed, resigned. “Got it.”

He knew when to admit defeat.

“Also, if you’re ordering, Rachel doesn’t like cold food.”

I added it like a secret tip, hoping he’d pay attention.

“You seem to know her well.”

He looked at me, suspicious.

“She comes by for coffee every day. We chat a bit.”

I shrugged, trying to sound casual.

Come on, I even mentioned food—why isn’t he ordering? Maybe he’s just nervous. I rolled my eyes inside.

Mr. Carter later ordered me a whole table’s worth at the Michelin place.

It was almost embarrassing—so much food, so little appetite. I tried not to laugh.

On the night he and Rachel had dinner, I sat in the corner, watching them from afar.

I felt like a spy, hidden behind a potted plant.

The food was delicious, but I couldn’t eat a bite.

My stomach was in knots, nerves jangling.

It was my parents’ date, but I was the one who was nervous.

I chewed my lip, praying for a happy ending.

All I could do was sit there, tense.

Just hoping Mr. Carter would humble himself a little more, sink a little lower, all the way to the ground. Maybe he’d finally learn.

He needed it—maybe it would finally teach him how to love.

I’d just put a piece of foie gras in my mouth when a sweet, crisp voice caught my attention.

“Carter! You’re here too.”

My heart skipped a beat when I heard that name. Yikes—here comes trouble.

Uh-oh, outside interference.

I stiffened, bracing for drama.

“Is this your girlfriend?” The girl tugged at the pearl necklace around her pale neck. “Thanks for the necklace at the auction—it’s gorgeous.”

She was all smiles, but her eyes darted between Carter and Rachel.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” Mr. Carter said calmly, then glanced my way. “Chairman Lee felt bad about me giving you a gift, so he invited me to dinner. We even closed a deal—so I owe you.”

He delivered the line like a pro, no emotion, just facts.

The girl’s expression turned a little awkward.

She fidgeted, looking for an escape.

I was more than a little surprised.

Wow, that was smooth.

I couldn’t help but admire his finesse—turning an awkward moment into a business transaction. That’s talent.

A gift from me, a favor from you, strictly business—no personal feelings.

I stared at Rachel Monroe.

Her expression shifted ever so slightly.

She blinked, lips pressed tight.

But she was good at hiding her emotions, and quickly masked it again. Poker face, just like Dad.

She’d learned from the best.

I smiled.

It was bittersweet—watching my parents dance around each other, never quite touching.

“I’ll walk you home,” I heard Mr. Carter say to Rachel Monroe.

Good move—now that a third party showed up, time to change the scene.

He was learning, slowly. Slow but steady, I guess.