After a two-hour drive through New York City's avenues, Adrian Foster finally returned to his company's headquarters in Riverside Hills. Fortunately, it wasn't rush hour; otherwise, it would have taken him more than three hours. Manhattan traffic could be vicious, even for someone with his level of influence.
Upon entering, he was greeted by Grace Sinclair, an elegant executive wearing a crisp black dress, bright red lips, and carefully styled golden curls. Her bearing exuded the charm of a mature, self-confident woman. Always impeccable, always at the forefront of fashion, investing time and energy in every detail of her appearance.
Seeing him, Grace raised an eyebrow, flashing a curious smile. Her heels clicking on the lobby marble, she approached him.
—You didn't come to work today, but you'll still show up at the office after work. You don't have to punch in… why are you coming in afterward?
Adrian smiled with a mixture of laziness and pride:
—Who said I didn't come? I was recording outside today with the content department, and I also participated in the filming of the main video.
Grace frowned, crossing her arms, looking at him seriously, which caused a slight smile from Adrian.
"Why are you looking at me like that? I'm the boss," he said, winking. "I can go whenever I want."
Without insisting, Grace raised her eyebrow and replied:
—Okay. I have some urgent documents you need to review and sign. I left them in your office.
"Urgent?" Adrian asked as he headed for the elevator.
"Yes!" she replied firmly.
"Then they're not so urgent," he replied ironically. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."
Grace looked at him without saying a word, and Adrian took the opportunity to make a proposal:
—Do you have time tonight? I'm buying you a nice dinner.
She raised both eyebrows and glared at him:
—No.
"You don't even want to go to dinner with me," he said, amused. "Looks like your brother-in-law is going to suffer again tonight."
"Forget it," Grace replied, turning to walk away.
Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked away, and Adrian smiled at the scene. He couldn't help but find Grace's mix of authority and flirtatiousness fascinating.
Before she disappeared, she turned and said:
—Adrián, tonight I want organic chicken and lobster bisque or cream of mushroom soup. Or maybe both. I'll make sure you rest well.
He laughed at the suggestion, even though he knew it was a hint. In his mind, he told himself that Grace didn't understand: he wasn't there for any rest, but to remain free, unbound.
Adrian walked into his office determined. Although his initial plan was to take a break, he knew he couldn't ignore the documents. He carefully reviewed each page before signing, because although he was a laid-back boss, he left nothing to chance. He only fully trusted two people: Grace Sinclair and Olivia Hart.
Grace, his closest ally, had never deceived him. Olivia, though she'd had her moments, had shown loyalty. After taking over the company, Adrian had decided to delegate as much as possible, hiring quarterly external audits to review projects and detect irregularities.
Adrian's motto was simple:I don't want to make money at the expense of problemsThat's why he maintained an internal site for anonymous complaints; only he knew the real identities of the informants.
Upon arriving at the lobby, he found Lucas Bennett, their director of food analysis, waiting for him by the entrance. Lucas was clearing some sunflower seeds and a couple of snacks from his table.
"Did you finish the food analysis report?" Adrian joked.
"I sent it to you on WhatsApp hours ago," Lucas replied, without taking his eyes off his phone. "Maybe you were busy."
Adrian scratched his head, smiling:
—Yes, I've been recording all day. By the way, I have an important dinner tonight. Are you coming? I want to test your gourmet taste.
Lucas's eyes lit up.
—Really? Of course, I can't refuse an invitation like that. Where are we going?
"There'll be six of us tonight. A fine dinner." Adrian smiled. "Free budget."
Lucas nodded enthusiastically:
—Perfect. Unlimited budget, then.
Upon leaving, Adrian and his companions took two cars. New York traffic delayed their arrival for almost an hour. They finally arrived at an elegant Japanese restaurant in the heart of Manhattan.
The place was a perfect contrast: a fusion of Japanese sobriety and European luxury. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, reflecting soft light. Immaculate white tables with vases filled with pink roses gave an aristocratic touch. The atmosphere invited one to enjoy slowly.
Adrian smiled at the menu, knowing his guests would be swayed by the prices.
"Order whatever you want. Don't worry about the bill," he said in a relaxed tone.
Lucas, confident, ordered puffer fish sashimi, foie gras, tuna sushi, chrysanthemum, sesame tofu, and a special dessert. Olivia ordered fish roe sushi, Japanese seafood salad, and assorted sashimi.
Adrián, though not a fan of Japanese food, ordered teriyaki eel rice, ginger chicken, and miso soup. He did it more for the gesture than for the taste.
The dinner turned out to be a luxurious experience: delicate flavors, impeccable presentation, and impeccable service. The total came to almost $7,000, including a 15% service charge. Adrian silently thought:serving shouldn't cost so much, but he didn't care. That night, it was all about having fun.
While everyone chatted and laughed, Adrian watched the scene. That dinner wasn't just a banquet; it was a celebration of his lifestyle: free, untethered, enjoying every moment as if it were his last.