Chapter Six: Dinner for Two- Somewhere Between Pretending and Feelings.
Damien had just concluded a high-level meeting with a group of business executives. With his legs casually crossed, he sat deep in his black leather swivel chair, his sharp gaze fixed distantly on the panoramic view of the city skyline that poured in through the glass wall. The hum of the city below was faint, drowned out by the silence in his office. His thoughts were a storm of plans and possibilities until Eric, his ever-efficient right-hand man, stepped in.
"Sir, we now have total control of the acquisition of the beach house," Eric announced, placing a slim digital tablet on the desk.
Damien nodded slowly, still distant.
Eric continued, "Also, the AI-powered logistics software you developed has been fully adopted by two international shipping giants. The buzz in Silicon Valley is loud about that. And the clean energy optimization tool your team launched just received a $50 million grant from the Global Innovation Board. Lastly, the beta version of your mental health app just hit a million downloads within 48 hours."
A glimmer of satisfaction flickered in Damien's eyes.
"Which means," Eric went on, "that our presence here has been a full success. We should be taking our departure any moment now so we can arrive on time for your aunt's birthday celebration."
"Okay. When can we leave?" Damien asked, snapping out of his reverie.
"If we've wrapped up all matters, I say we leave now. The private jet is ready and fueled, waiting on the tarmac. What will it be, sir?" Eric asked with his usual calm professionalism.
Damien stretched a little, cracked his knuckles, and picked up his phone. "We leave tomorrow." He tapped away at the screen, sending a flurry of messages. A faint smile touched his lips before he returned to the paperwork on his desk, the gears of his mind never truly resting.
Later that evening, Damien sat in a private booth of "La Belle Noire," one of the city's most exquisite five star restaurants. The ambiance was lush: deep red velvet walls, hanging crystal chandeliers casting soft golden light, and the gentle hum of a jazz quartet playing near the central fountain. Waiters in crisp white coats moved like shadows between candlelit tables.
He was reviewing a wine list when she walked in.
Tyler Ross.
This time, she wasn't in her baggy big skirt and lab coat. She wore a deep emerald short gown that hugged her figure just enough to hint, not reveal. Her curly hair fell in elegant waves around her shoulders, and though she still wore her oversized glasses, they framed her face in a way Damien had never noticed before.
She was stunning.
"I'm so sorry I'm late," Tyler said breathlessly as she approached the table, her cheeks flushed. "I got your message a bit late. Plus, I wasn't allowed to leave work on time, and I had the hardest time locating this place. I've never been to a five-star restaurant such as this before. It's really beautiful in here."
Damien stood slightly as she sat, a rare gesture from someone so usually composed.
"It's fine. I'm just glad you made it," he said, his voice softer than usual. Damien couldn't help but admire the way she seemed to light up the space around her
The waiter poured them each a glass of vintage red, and the aroma of truffle risotto drifted from the table next to them.
Tyler took a moment to absorb the room, her eyes wide in wonder. "Wow, this place feels like something out of a movie."
Damien chuckled. "You are the movie."
She blinked, caught off guard by the compliment and she bites her lower lips nervously.
A brief silence lingered comfortable, electric.
"So," Tyler said, swirling her wine gently, "what's the occasion? You didn't just call me here to admire my taste in chaotic lateness, did you?"
Damien leaned in, his eyes locking onto hers. "No, I called you here because I realized in the middle of signing billion dollar contracts and boarding private jets, that the most interesting part of my week... was meeting you."
Tyler's face softened. Her cheeks flushed so brightly, she had to look down, biting her lower lip like she could chew the heat away.
She brought her wine glass up to her mouth, half hiding behind it, pretending to sip. The way she clutched the stem like a lifeline made Damian smile again.
"Instead of drowning in that poor wine glass," he said with a half-smirk, his voice smooth as velvet, "why not save your pride and pick a menu?"
She gave a small, dry laugh trying to brush off the embarrassment, even though the red in her cheeks betrayed her.
"Fine, fine," she said, lifting the leather bound menu with exaggerated drama. "Let's see what kind of luxuries your world offers."
They both began skimming the pages, exchanging quiet commentary and teasing remarks like two people who had done this a hundred times though both knew it was anything but ordinary.
"What's your go-to order at places like this?" he asked, leaning a little closer across the table, watching her reactions more than the menu.
She peeked over the top of the menu, raising a brow. "Are you mocking me now, Mr. Billionaire?"
"Never," he said, lips curving slightly. "Only curious."
"Well, if you must know," she said, voice light, "this is my first time in a place like this. But I've got a strategy."
"Oh? Do tell."
"I'll just pick whatever sounds the most exotic and pretend I know what it is," she grinned. "And tonight, that would be… the truffle risotto. It sounds sinful."
He laughed full, warm, genuine. The kind of laugh that turned heads two tables over.
"Truffle risotto it is," he said. "I'll take the same. Let's both be sinners."
As their orders were taken away and the wine was refreshed, the atmosphere deepened not in silence, but in how easy it all felt. No posturing. No rehearsed lines. Just two people discovering each other one laugh at a time.
Tyler was almost getting lost in the moment until her cellphone beeped, pulling her attention away from Damien. Sneaking a peek at the screen, her heart sank as she saw the name: Dexter.
A wave of anxiety washed over her, and she felt her pulse quicken. Dexter was a constant source of dread in her life, his threats and manipulations lingering like a shadow. Without hesitation she had quickly cut the call.
As she set the phone down, she forced a smile, but her heart raced as she sensed Damien's gaze on her."Everything okay?" he asked, his brow slightly furrowed, picking up on the subtle shift in her demeanor."Yeah, just…work stuff," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. She masked her fear behind a veneer of calm, determined not to let it show.Damien, however, was perceptive. He noticed the way her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the tablecloth and how her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. But he chose to remain silent, sensing that whatever haunted her was not something he could pry into. Instead, he took a slow sip of his wine, pretending not to notice the tension that had suddenly crept into the air.Tyler could feel the weight of his unasked questions, but she pushed down her anxiety, focusing on the warmth of the moment they had created.
"So, where were we?" she said, her voice brightening as she tried to redirect the conversation.Damien smiled, but she could see the flicker of concern in his eyes. He was aware that something was off, yet he respected her space, allowing her to navigate her emotions in her own way.
Damian glanced at her again, this time letting his eyes linger.
"You're different from anyone I've ever met," he said, almost absentmindedly. "Like… there's this constant storm under your calm. I don't know how to explain it."
Tyler blinked.
He was getting too close.
She masked it with a smile. "Maybe I'm just a girl with a lot of weather."
"That's poetic," he said. "You sure you're not a secret writer?"
"No, but I've read enough heartbreak to fake it," she replied with a grin, then took another sip of wine to cover the flicker of pain that had slipped out.
Damian tilted his head. "You ever been in love, Tyler?"
She froze just for a second then laughed it off with a small shake of her head.
"Not the real kind. I've had... crushes. Hopes. Maybe a few stupid fantasies. But love?" She shrugged. "That one's still pending."
He didn't press. He just watched her a moment longer.
"Well," he said gently, "maybe tonight's a good place to start believing in it."
And for a moment, she almost believed it too.
Almost.
Tyler eats her meal gently while Damian who seemed not to have that much of an appetite suddenly leaned forward, elbows resting lightly on the edge of the table, his expression quiet but intent.