Nathan returned to his hotel right after meeting Celine, his mind a quiet whirl of thoughts he couldn't quite name.
He dropped his keys on the counter, shrugged out of his blazer, and changed into something comfortable — a crisp white shirt and soft gray cotton shorts. The city lights shimmered through the glass windows, the kind of calm glow that usually steadied him.
But tonight, he felt anything but calm.
He sank onto the couch, grabbed his phone, and called Marv.
"So?" Marv's voice came through, curious and casual. "How'd it go? When's the next meeting?"
"Four weeks from now," Nathan replied flatly. "Tentatively. I asked them to move it up if something opens earlier."
Marv groaned. "Four weeks? That's ridiculous."
"Tell me about it," Nathan said, rubbing his temple. "They apologized — said it was personal. Whatever it was, it must've been important."
He reached for his laptop and opened it on the coffee table, multitasking as he turned on the TV for background noise.
"Well," Marv said, lowering his voice, "I did a little digging, and I think I found your answer."
"Go on."
"It's all over social media, man. HUB's owner's daughter — the only daughter — got dumped. Publicly. And not just dumped. Humiliated. It's bad, dude. They're one of those old-money families who never let scandals see daylight, and now they're everywhere."
Nathan paused, still typing, unbothered at first. "That's rough," he said absently.
Marv continued, "Guess the guy was from Lennox Corp. I mean, it's a mess—"
Nathan froze mid-keystroke. The words "HUB's daughter" and "Lennox" started to connect dots in his head.
He glanced at the TV — a local news report was playing footage from outside a hospital. The chyron read: 'Lennox Corp. Founder in Coma After Public Family Scandal.'
In the corner of the screen: Ben Rosenfield Visits Longtime Partner's Family Amidst Controversy.
And there she was.
Celine.
Looking fragile but composed, standing beside her parents under a hail of camera flashes.
"You know what's funny?" Nathan said, almost to himself. "I helped a girl the other night at a bar — The Black Tie Society. She was drunk, crying, and… well, turns out she's the same girl I met today at HUB headquarters."
He reached for his wallet and pulled out her card, staring at her name printed neatly in silver lettering.
"She even gave me her business card."
There was a beat of silence on the line. Then—
Marv exploded. "Wait, wait, wait. Back up. HUB's daughter? The same one from the headlines? What's her name?"
"Celine Rosenfield," Nathan said, still half-distracted, still watching her face on-screen.
Marv practically yelled into the phone. "You're kidding me! You helped Celine Rosenfield? Nate, do you have any idea how insane that is? You're sitting on a gold mine! She offered to help you, didn't she? Tell me she did."
Nathan hesitated. "She said… she could talk to her dad. Maybe get me an earlier meeting. Even a shot at a partnership."
Marv's voice rose an octave. "And you said yes, right?"
Nathan exhaled slowly. "Not exactly."
Marv's tone dropped into disbelief. "Don't tell me—"
"I said no."
"WHAT?!"
Nathan leaned back against the couch, unfazed by the outrage. "She wanted something in return," he said simply.
"Okay…" Marv dragged out the word. "What kind of something?"
Nathan explained — the tea party, the humiliation, the tears. Her plan to make her ex-fiancé regret what he did. The offer to help him with HUB in exchange for his help with revenge.
The more he spoke, the more it settled in him — the rawness in her voice that night, the heartbreak she tried to hide behind her smile earlier that day.
When he finished, he looked up at the TV again — at Dean Carter's smug face plastered across the screen, shaking hands with investors outside Lennox's headquarters.
Nathan's jaw clenched. He wanted to punch that face through the glass.
"He doesn't deserve her," Nathan muttered under his breath, forgetting he was still on the call.
"Wait, who doesn't deserve who now?" Marv asked, confused.
Nathan ignored the question.
"Look, Nate," Marv said carefully, "I get you don't want to be in the middle of someone's drama. But think about it — you're stuck there for a month anyway. If she's offering to help, take it. You'll get the deal, she'll get closure, and everyone wins."
Nathan sighed. "I don't like it, Marv. She doesn't need me for that. She needs to move on, not obsess over that idiot."
Marv chuckled. "Bro… I think you're already more invested in her than you realize."
Nathan didn't respond, but the silence said everything.
Marv pressed on. "Look, whether you help or not, she's going to do it anyway. Wouldn't you rather it be you — someone decent — than some opportunist who'll use her?"
That gave Nathan pause. He thought of her face again — teary, vulnerable, brave. The way her voice had cracked when she said she didn't understand why someone could hurt her like that.
"Why not?" Marv added softly. "You'll help her stand again. Call it… being a friend."
Nathan leaned his head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. He hated to admit it, but Marv was right. If he could keep her from being hurt again, from being used — if he could make that pain mean something — then maybe it was worth it.
"Alright," he said finally. "You win. Sometimes I wonder why you didn't go into law."
Marv laughed. "Because then every lawyer would be out of business, my friend."
"Yeah, yeah," Nathan said with a small smile.
"Good. Now go seal the deal. And maybe," Marv teased, "don't fall for the client this time."
Nathan rolled his eyes, ending the call.
⸻
He stood by the window, the city skyline glittering beneath a cloudless night. For once, he wasn't thinking about work.
He thought about her.
Her voice. Her eyes. The way she tried so hard to stay strong.
Without overthinking it, he grabbed his phone and dialed her number.
It rang twice before she picked up.
"Hello?"
Her voice was soft — smooth, honey-sweet, with a faint lilt that made it sound like music.
Nathan hesitated for a second, then smiled. "Hi. It's Nathan."
There was a pause. Then a small breath of recognition. "Nathan… hi!"
"About your offer," he said calmly, his voice steady but warm. "I've made my decision. I'll help you."
For a heartbeat, the world on her end went still. Then, softly —
"Thank you," she said, her tone full of relief and quiet gratitude. "Please, let's meet again soon."
Nathan could hear the faint smile in her voice.
And for the first time in days, Celine smiled too — not because her plan was working, but because someone had chosen to believe in her when no one else did.
Nathan looked out the window again, the stars scattered across the night sky.
"Why not," he murmured to himself, setting his phone down.
He didn't know why it was so easy to say yes to her — only that something in him wanted to protect her, to make sure she'd never cry like that again.
And somewhere deep down, without meaning to, he already knew — this wasn't just business anymore.