Allen's return from Chicago injected a shot of adrenaline into Williams Food Company, also allowing Catherine a few days to rest and relax.
The intimacy of that night seemed to have been deliberately forgotten by both of them.
The factory rapidly absorbed all the benefits brought by the great victory in Chicago.
The continuous supply of cheap beef from the west further reduced the factory's production costs.
And the railway, controlled by Allen, occasionally began to transport the company's products beyond New York, to a broader market.
The company's profits also began to grow rapidly as raw material supplies were met.
This evening, as Catherine finished the last document and was preparing to return to her small apartment as usual, Allen called out to her.
"Catherine, wait a moment."
"Sir?"
"I've reserved a private room at Delmonico's Restaurant to celebrate our victory in Chicago."
Catherine was stunned.
Delmonico's was the most luxurious and expensive restaurant in all of New York.
It was a place only bankers and railway magnates could frequent.
"Sir, this… this is too extravagant."
"And I…"
Catherine subconsciously wanted to refuse.
She looked at her simple but clean clerk's suit dress.
Allen's lips curved into a smile, interrupting her refusal, and he said with self-deprecating humor.
"No 'and'."
"You know, I'm a rich scoundrel now, and occasionally I need to learn how those people spend their money."
He placed a beautifully wrapped box on her desk.
"This was bought at a shop recommended by Mrs. Tilford. I think what's inside should suit you better than last time."
Catherine's hands trembled as she opened the box.
Inside was a soft, royal blue silk dress.
The color was exactly like her eyes.
That night, in Delmonico's private room, which overlooked Madison Square.
Catherine, wearing the dress that seemed tailor-made for her, felt a little constrained.
She had experienced such occasions in Washington, but being alone with Allen felt different.
"Relax, Catherine."
Allen poured her a glass of champagne.
"Tonight, there's no boss and no assistant. Only two people who climbed out of the slums."
These words gradually calmed Catherine's heart.
"Then, Allen."
She boldly called him by his first name again.
"To our escape from the slums, cheers."
"Cheers."
The two gently clinked their glasses.
During this dinner, they didn't discuss anything about the company.
Instead, they talked about their more detailed pasts again.
Catherine spoke of her childhood, of her family, how they struggled to survive famine and eventually came to this new continent.
Allen, on the other hand, wove a half-true, half-false story about his "past" for her.
His story was full of metaphors and a deep melancholy that Catherine couldn't fully comprehend.
But she could feel that beneath the seemingly unbreakable exterior of the man before her, there was a soul as lonely as her own.
"Allen."
Catherine looked at him and suddenly asked.
"Have you… ever thought about starting a family?"
Allen fell silent.
"A successful man always needs a respectable wife behind him."
Catherine's tone, as if talking to herself, was like stating a fact.
"For example, Senator Clark of Washington, his daughter named Anna. I've met her. She's beautiful and intelligent. She's the kind of woman who could be worthy of you."
Allen looked at her, at the hint of bitterness hidden deep within her feigned calm, blue eyes, a bitterness she herself hadn't even noticed.
He didn't answer her question, but instead asked back.
"What about you, Catherine, have you thought about yourself? There are many excellent young men in New York, and I think they would cherish you like a princess."
"I don't need anyone to treat me like a princess."
Catherine shook her head, a proud smile appearing on her face.
"Because I have already found a career more interesting than being a princess."
After dinner, Allen insisted on personally escorting Catherine home.
The two walked side by side down the gaslit streets of New York late at night, neither of them speaking.
Behind them, several guards followed in the shadows, not too far, not too close.
They arrived at Catherine's small apartment building.
"Alright, I'm here."
Catherine stopped and looked at Allen.
"Thank you, Allen. I had a very happy evening."
"Me too."
The evening breeze stirred a few strands of hair on her forehead.
The dim yellow light of the gas lamp shone on her beautiful, slightly flushed face.
Catalyzed by alcohol and an emotion called ambiguity.
Allen reached out and gently tucked the wind-blown strand of her hair behind her ear.
His fingertips accidentally brushed her warm, soft earlobe.
Catherine's body instantly trembled slightly.
She didn't shy away.
She simply looked up, gazing at him silently with her clear and deep eyes, like autumn lake water.
Time seemed to stop at this moment.
Allen met Catherine's beautiful blue eyes and slowly lowered his head.
He kissed her lips.
At first, it was just a soft, tentative touch.
Then, feeling her raw and fervent response, the kiss became incredibly deep and lingering.
So much was contained in this kiss.
There was admiration, gratitude, trust, tenderness, and even more, the solace of two lonely souls finally finding each other on a cold foreign night.
After a long while, the two slowly separated.
"Catherine…"
"Don't speak."
Catherine gently pressed a finger to his lips.
She looked at him, her eyes devoid of the usual awe a subordinate held for a superior.
There was only the purest emotion of a woman for a man.
She said nothing.
She simply took out her key and opened the apartment door behind her, leading to her small world.
Then, she turned and looked at him again.
Allen saw the clear yet shy invitation in her eyes.
He smiled.
He stepped forward, took Catherine's soft hand, and followed her through the door.
The door gently closed behind them.
The man and woman inside the room began their fiery exploration, shedding their inhibitions from the doorway, on the sofa, in the kitchen, by the door, and throughout the room.
"My God, so frightening, don't rush… Oh my God…"
The fervent hearts of the young man and woman were scattered everywhere.
The door seemed to seal off the entire world.
The few guards outside exchanged glances; everyone in the company had seen it coming.
But they hadn't expected it to develop so quickly.
"It seems we'll be feeding mosquitoes tonight…"
…The next day, when Catherine, having tasted the forbidden fruit, reappeared in the office with an awkward gait, she was still the capable and steady general assistant and administrative director.
It was just that her usually impeccably neat bun and footsteps seemed, today, a tiny bit disheveled.
As for Allen, he only leisurely emerged from his lounge after she had entered the office.
A refreshed smile was on his face.
Just then, Jones burst in excitedly, waving an urgent letter from the military department in his hand.