The morning after the gala, Nathan stayed in his hotel room longer than usual.
Sunlight spilled through the curtains, glinting off the half-empty glass of water beside him. He sat on the edge of the bed, still in a quiet daze — realizing just how long it had been since he'd actually enjoyed an event.
Normally, galas were business obligations — a blur of handshakes, contracts, and polite smiles. But last night was different. He'd laughed. He'd talked. He'd danced — and for once, it didn't feel like an act.
He thought of Celine.
The moment she stepped out of the car, she had taken his breath away. Her red satin gown. Her calm, regal smile. The way she held her chin high as if reclaiming her place in the world. He couldn't help but admire her strength — that quiet resilience that seemed to glow from beneath the surface.
And yet, part of him still couldn't believe she was doing all this to get back at him — that guy.
Dean.
The more Nathan thought about it, the more his chest tightened. That man didn't deserve her tears, much less her time. By the end of this deal, Nathan swore she would know her worth — that she'd finally see herself the way he did.
His thoughts were cut short by the sharp buzz of his phone.
Marv.
"So," Marv's voice came through, half-curious, half-teasing. "How was the gala, Mr. Park?"
"It was great," Nathan said honestly. "I actually had fun."
Marv chuckled. "Fun? From you? Wow, that's a headline. So… any progress with the plan?"
"I'd say yes," Nathan replied, leaning back against the bedframe. "That guy looked like he was going to explode last night. I'd call that a dent."
"That's what I like to hear," Marv said. "Still, don't forget why you're there."
"I won't," Nathan assured him. "This deal stays my top priority. Don't worry."
They exchanged a few notes on project updates before hanging up. But as soon as the call ended, Nathan's phone buzzed again — this time, from Celine.
Celine: Just a reminder — tennis match with the Brandts in two days.
Nathan: We'll be there. Don't worry.
He smiled faintly, tossing the phone onto the couch before heading for the shower.
⸻
Across town, Celine sat at the brunch table with her mother, Lauren, and Sadie. The table gleamed with sunlight reflecting off fine china, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixing with toast and fruit.
"So…" Sadie began, raising a brow. "The gala seemed very interesting."
Lauren looked up from her tea, waiting.
"Anyway," Sadie continued, leaning in. "You better fill us in."
Celine tried to hold back her smile but failed miserably. She told them everything — the way the crowd reacted when she and Nathan arrived, how Dean's face stiffened, how satisfying it felt to see him caught off guard.
Sadie nearly squealed. "I told you! You just needed one good night to remind everyone who you are!"
Lauren, however, was composed, though there was a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. "Nathan seems like quite the help," she said. "Too bad I haven't met him yet. Everyone in the city's talking about him — except me, apparently."
Celine laughed softly. "I'll invite him over soon, Mom. Promise."
She was actually thinking the same thing — that introducing Nathan could help him connect with her father for their deal. It was the least she could do for everything he'd done for her.
Her phone buzzed again.
Nathan: We'll be there.
Then another message appeared seconds later:
Nathan: Dinner tonight?
Celine froze for half a heartbeat, her lips curving into an involuntary smile.
Her reply was simple — Yes.
And just like that, her heart began to flutter.
⸻
That evening, Celine stood in front of her mirror, smoothing down her dress one last time — a soft midi bodycon in creamy blush with an off-shoulder sweetheart neckline. The silhouette was elegant yet understated. Her pearl earrings glimmered under the light, and she wore a simple watch, her hair styled half up with a ribbon bow.
She hadn't felt this excited in years — not since before Dean left for college. The memory flashed briefly, threatening to dampen her mood, but she shook it away. Not tonight.
When Nathan arrived, she heard the familiar sound of his car pulling up the driveway. She hurried to the front door.
He looked effortlessly handsome — clean white piqué-collar shirt, perfectly tailored pants, and that quiet confidence that always made him stand out without trying.
"Hi," he greeted, his usual calm voice tinged with a rare nervous warmth. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting."
"Not at all," she said, her smile soft.
He walked ahead and opened the car door for her, ever the gentleman. Before she stepped in, he reached for something from the back seat — a small bouquet of pale pink tulips wrapped in paper.
Celine blinked, surprised. "Oh—thank you. You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," Nathan said with a faint smile. "Every time I've been to your house, I notice the flower arrangements. I figured you might like them."
Her heart fluttered at the thought that he'd noticed something so small. "You're very observant," she said softly.
"Can't help it," he replied. "You make it easy to notice details."
Celine blushed, turning her gaze toward the window as they drove.
⸻
The restaurant Nathan chose was tucked in a quiet street, its facade modest but charming. Inside, soft jazz filled the air and the scent of butter and truffle hung delicately. Candles flickered on every table, casting a warm, intimate glow.
Nathan offered his arm as they entered. "For authenticity," he teased lightly.
Celine took it, smiling as her hand slipped naturally through the crook of his arm. "Of course," she played along.
They were led to a cozy corner table with an open view of the city through glass walls. As they settled, Nathan made sure to keep the conversation far from Dean.
"Tell me more about you," he said, leaning forward slightly. "Not the heiress. Just you."
Celine looked surprised but then laughed gently. "There's not much to tell."
"I don't believe that," he said.
So she told him — about the daycare centers she volunteered at, the orphanage she supported, her dream of opening centers for young mothers. Her eyes lit up as she spoke, her hands moving animatedly.
"When I was little, I wanted to be a teacher," she admitted. "But I think I'd be terrible at it. I'd just end up playing with the kids all day."
Nathan smiled. "That's probably what makes you perfect for it."
Celine laughed, then ducked her head shyly. "Thank you for not finding that silly."
"Silly?" he repeated. "Celine, that's one of the most genuine things I've ever heard."
He found himself listening more than talking, watching the way she smiled when she mentioned her causes — that unfiltered warmth he rarely saw in people anymore. He realized then that every time she talked about helping others, his chest grew a little tighter, his admiration a little stronger.
"You know," she said suddenly, twirling her spoon idly. "Every year, one of the charities I support asks to celebrate me as their biggest donor. I always turn it down."
"Why?" Nathan asked softly.
She shrugged lightly, eyes falling to her cup. "Because… I don't think it should be about me. Everyone who gives — no matter how little — deserves that recognition. Not just the ones who give the most."
Nathan was quiet for a moment. Then he reached across the table and gently took her hand. "You're kind, Celine. That's what makes you worth celebrating. I hope one day you let yourself see that."
She smiled faintly, touched by his sincerity. The warmth of his hand lingered long after he let go.
By dessert, she'd completely forgotten about Dean — or the plan. All that mattered was the sound of Nathan's laughter and how easy it was to talk to him. For the first time in a long while, she felt light.
As they walked back to the car, he reminded her, "Don't forget — tennis match in two days."
"Of course," she said, smiling.
At her doorstep, the night was still and calm. Nathan hesitated for a second, then leaned in to press a light kiss to her cheek.
"Good night, Celine," he said softly.
"Good night, Nathan."
She watched him leave, standing by the gate long after his car disappeared. The cool breeze brushed her cheeks, but all she felt was warmth. Her heart was full — peaceful and alive.
And somewhere down the road, Nathan drove away with a smile he didn't even realize was there.