A week had passed since that quiet dinner. The words left unsaid still lingered in the back of Elara's mind.
She sat at her desk, the city sprawled before her through floor-to-ceiling windows. The view should have been calming—lights flickering in patterns of a living city—but today, it felt distant, like something that belonged to someone else. Papers were stacked in order, her tablet buzzed with reminders, but her thoughts kept drifting.
The knock on her door broke her concentration. "Ms. Vienne, Mr. Ethan West is waiting in the conference room."
Elara's pen hovered over the document she had been signing, her mind racing for a moment. "He's here?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of surprise.
"Yes, ma'am. He said it's about the collaboration your father mentioned."
Right. The arrangement. She couldn't escape it. Business, disguised as a casual meeting, a charade with too many layers. She closed her file with a precise motion, standing up and smoothing down the creases of her tailored suit. "I'll be there in a moment."
Across the hall, Ethan stood by the conference room window, gazing at the skyline as if the world outside offered answers he couldn't find inside. His posture was as controlled as ever, but there was a quiet tension in the way his jaw tightened.
Elara entered the room without hesitation. She could feel his presence as she walked in, solid and steady. Their gazes met briefly before she offered a neutral nod. "Ethan."
"Elara," he responded, his tone measured, yet there was a flicker of something deeper beneath his words.
The air between them held no immediate hostility, but neither was it comfortable. It was that strange middle ground where two people who didn't know each other well tried to fill the silence with professionalism, and maybe something more entirely.
They shook hands. Firm, but not too tight. Long enough to notice the subtle brush of skin, but brief enough not to read too much into it.
"I hear our fathers think we'd make good partners," Elara said, glancing toward the papers in front of them, but not really seeing them.
Ethan's lips quirked into the barest smile. "In more ways than one." His eyes met hers for a moment, and in that glance, something unsaid passed between them. Maybe it was the shared understanding of the situation, or maybe something else entirely.
They sat, business documents spread between them, but neither moved to open the folders. The silence stretched between them, not awkward, but filled with the weight of expectation.
"So, this hotel-tech integration?" Elara asked, trying to focus.
"It's a good opportunity. We're talking about smart rooms for your guests and a platform that showcases what we can do," Ethan explained, his voice steady, like he was speaking in the same calculated tone he used in the boardroom.
Elara nodded, watching him carefully. "Mutual gain," she repeated, as if testing the words.
For a moment, her gaze lingered on him, taking in the sharp angles of his face, the way he carried himself so effortlessly. There was a sharpness to him—he wasn't just a CEO. He was someone who understood the language of power, and she couldn't deny how that intrigued her.
"How do you work in silence all day?" Ethan asked suddenly, breaking the spell of her thoughts.
She blinked, momentarily thrown off. "How do you?" she countered, an eyebrow raised, a small challenge in her tone.
A quiet laugh escaped him. "Touché," he said softly, a flicker of something warmer in his gaze. The briefest moment of connection.
The conversation shifted back to business. They talked in snippets—systems, timelines, updates—but each pause between them felt like a puzzle piece, waiting to be put together. Neither one of them rushed to fill the silence with chatter. Instead, they leaned into it, letting the quietness of the room speak volumes.
As the meeting wound to a close, Elara stood up first, her eyes still on him. "We'll have our legal team look over the proposal," she said.
Ethan stood as well, his hand brushing the edge of the table before pushing his chair back. "Next time," he began, his voice low, "let's not meet in a glass box."
She tilted her head slightly, amused but intrigued. "Next time?"
He shrugged, his usual expression of cool detachment slipping just enough for her to see the faintest trace of something else—perhaps sincerity. "I owe you a coffee. For tolerating all this."
There was a pause. For a fleeting moment, the professional facade between them cracked, and Elara allowed herself a small, knowing smile. "I'll hold you to that."
He held the door open for her, a quiet gesture that didn't go unnoticed. They walked out together, their footsteps in sync, though their minds were worlds apart.
Elara felt the weight of the evening settling into her thoughts as she returned to her office. There was something unspoken between them, something that both of them chose not to address but couldn't completely ignore. As she stared out at the city, the thoughts about Ethan swirled in her mind, a storm she hadn't planned on.
And miles away, Ethan sat at his desk, staring at his phone screen. His fingers hovered over the screen, unsure for a moment. Then he typed a single line in his calendar, just a small entry: Coffee with Elara?
Not a meeting. Not business. Just a moment—between the lines.