The personal assistant opened the door with a neutral smile and gestured her in. No announcement. No hesitation. Just a quiet, efficient handoff.
Ellie stepped into the glass room with practiced ease, the heels of her black boots muffled by the slate flooring. The city glittered behind him in reflections of steel and light, and for a moment, she stood there quietly—measuring.
Caden Hale looked up from his tablet.
Tall. Controlled. Unreadable. The kind of man who didn't pretend to make time for people—because he didn't need to.
She walked forward and offered her hand.
"Ellie Wrenmoor," she said. "Thank you for agreeing to meet me."
He shook her hand, his grip firm but not showy. His expression didn't flicker at the name, but something in his eyes shifted, just barely.
"Ellie Wrenmoor," he repeated slowly. "That's not a name I hear often in my inbox."
She smiled politely. "I don't usually send proposals to people like you. But I'm adjusting."
He gestured to the chair across from his desk, and she sat with quiet poise, placing a slim portfolio on the glass.
"I'm not here to waste your time," she said. "I've been working on a project for two years. A clothing line with functional design, understated structure, quality-first. The kind of thing people overlook until they realize it's already shaping the market."
"And you're looking for what, exactly?" he asked. "Funding? Collaboration?"
"Preferably both but you're open to invest if you don't just want to fund," she said smoothly. "Ideally, with someone who knows how to operate off-radar. My last investor had… visibility issues."
Caden watched her for a long moment. "Is that a polite way of saying scandal?"
More like an intentional mistake, she thought as she thought back to Jake promising her a funding for her venture after the wedding but since that wasn't gonna happen, she's not gonna wait around.
"I prefer to call it inconvenient publicity," Ellie said evenly. "But yes. I'm not looking to align with anyone who wants to build headlines."
He didn't smile, but something behind his eyes softened, an interest, not amusement. He tapped a finger lightly on the armrest.
"And why me?"
"You're private. Consistent. And from what I've read, impossible to manipulate."
Caden's brow lifted faintly. "That last part is either flattery or a warning."
"Maybe both," she said, tone flat but not unfriendly.
Silence stretched, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Ellie didn't fidget. She let it sit there, still and steady, like she had nowhere better to be.
Then, finally, he asked, "What aren't you telling me?"
Ellie's expression didn't shift. "If you're as good as they say, you'll figure it out."
Caden leaned back in his chair and looked at her like she was a very well-wrapped puzzle box. He didn't press, and she didn't offer more.
Then, finally, he smiled.
Not wide. Not inviting.
Just the kind of smile that said, Interesting.