The ride to the restaurant was quiet, but not the same cold silence Ava had come to expect from Alexander. This one felt… different.
Warmer?
No.
Not warm.
Just less icy.
Like the temperature had risen by a single degree.
Alexander sat beside her in the back of the sleek black company car, perfectly composed, eyes fixed on the passing city lights. Ava tried not to stare, but damn—it was hard not to.
In the dim interior, he looked even more impossibly striking. His navy suit contrasted sharply with the soft glow of the streetlamps, outlining his sharp jaw and impossibly calm demeanor.
"Tonight's dinner is with high-level executives from Paragon Dynamics," he said without looking at her. "They're potential partners for our upcoming product line."
Ava nodded, grateful to have something work-related to focus on. "What exactly should I be watching for?"
"Everything."
His voice was smooth, controlled.
Then he turned his head, looking directly at her.
"Body language. Tone. Hidden hesitation. Anything they try to conceal." He paused, eyes narrowing slightly—not at her, but at the thought. "People always reveal more than they think."
Ava swallowed. "And what about me? Anything I should avoid doing?"
He held her gaze a moment longer.
"Do not apologize unnecessarily. Don't fidget. And don't downplay your presence."
She blinked. "My presence?"
"Yes."
He adjusted his cufflink.
"Tonight, you are part of my team. You are not invisible."
Those words hit her harder than she expected. She nodded, a spark of confidence flickering in her chest.
"I understand."
He looked away, but a subtle shift in his expression—barely visible—suggested he was satisfied.
---
THE RESTAURANT
The car pulled up to one of the most luxurious restaurants Ava had ever seen. The entrance glowed with warm lights, a red carpet rolled out at the door. Valets stood ready, dressed sharply.
Alexander stepped out first, then turned to offer her his hand.
Ava froze.
He never touched her.
Never came close unless necessary.
Never broke the invisible boundary he kept so carefully reinforced.
But his hand was there—steady, gloved, waiting.
She placed her hand in his. His grip was firm, warm, sending a strange current through her as he helped her out of the car.
He didn't look at her hand.
He didn't comment.
He just held it for one single, lingering second longer than necessary before releasing it.
Inside, the restaurant buzzed with quiet sophistication. Chandeliers dripped crystals above white-tableclothed tables. The atmosphere screamed money.
A hostess approached. "Mr. Blackwell. Welcome. Your party is waiting."
As they were led to a private dining room, Ava could feel eyes on them—on him, on her, on their matching presence. She kept close but not too close, remembering his instructions.
When they entered the private room, four executives rose to greet them.
"Alexander," one of them said, extending a hand. "Always a pleasure."
Alexander shook his hand. "Likewise."
The others greeted him, then glanced at Ava with polite curiosity.
"And this is…?" one asked.
Alexander didn't hesitate.
"This is Ava Hart," he said. "My assistant."
There was no coldness in his tone. No indifference.
Just clarity.
Respect.
Ava felt heat bloom in her chest.
They sat—Alexander beside her, executives across. The waiter poured wine. The conversation began, formal but strategic.
Ava took notes discreetly, listening to every word. The discussion revolved around partnership terms, upcoming technologies, potential risks. Ava followed along, absorbing as much as she could.
Halfway through, one executive leaned forward, skeptical.
"Your timeline is ambitious, Alexander. Almost impossible."
Alexander didn't blink. "Almost isn't impossible."
"And your team can handle that pressure?"
Alexander's gaze flicked briefly—very briefly—to Ava.
"My team," he said calmly, "is capable of exceeding expectations."
A ripple of pride shot through her.
He didn't say it for her.
Alexander Blackwell didn't say things for anyone—not unless he meant them.
As the dinner continued, Ava noticed the shift—subtle at first. The executives leaned in more, their tones growing less defensive. Alexander held the conversation firmly, but every so often he glanced at her notes, or at her, as if grounding himself.
She didn't interrupt.
She didn't falter.
She held her position—confident, steady, exactly how he had instructed her.
By the end of the meeting, the executives were smiling, handshakes firm, agreements forming.
"That went smoother than expected," one executive said as he buttoned his coat.
Alexander offered a thin, knowing smile. "I don't expect smooth. I create it."
When the men left, Ava finally let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
She turned to Alexander. "Did everything go the way you wanted?"
He looked at her for a long moment—not evaluating, not judging. Just looking.
Then he said the last thing she expected:
"You did well."
Her heart stuttered. "Oh… thank you."
"You didn't shrink." His voice lowered, almost thoughtful. "Most new assistants would have."
"Well… I told you I wouldn't disappoint you."
He studied her again—quiet, intense.
"You haven't."
Those two words hit harder than they should have. They warmed her from the inside out.
As they walked back to the car, Ava's feet felt light, almost floating. The night air was cool, brushing against her bare shoulders. Alexander walked beside her—not ahead, not behind, but beside.
At the car door, he paused.
"Ava."
She turned. "Yes?"
His eyes moved over her face, then slowly—very slowly—down her gown and back up again. Not in a disrespectful way. Not with hunger.
But with an expression she'd never seen from him before.
Something sharpened.
Something softened.
Something conflicted.
He opened his mouth slightly, as if he was about to say something more—something real, something personal.
But then—
He stopped.
Closed it.
Straightened.
And said, in the coldest voice he had used all night:
"Don't get used to tonight."
The words sliced through her.
Her chest tightened.
He opened the car door without looking at her again.
Ava slid inside, feeling her heart thud painfully as he joined her a moment later. The silence now was different. Tense. Guarded. Like he was rebuilding the walls he'd let crack.
She stared out the window, confused, hurt, and somehow even more drawn to him.
Because she had seen it.
For a moment—
For just a moment—
The ice had melted.
And Alexander Blackwell had almost let her see the man underneath.
Almost.
The ride back to Blackwell Innovations was suffused with a silence heavier than the one in the car on the way to the restaurant. But this time, it wasn't empty—it was charged. Both of them were thinking, calculating, replaying the evening in their minds.
Ava stared out the window, the city lights painting patterns across her reflection. Her heart was still racing. Every glance Alexander had given her, every subtle acknowledgment… it had unsettled her in ways she couldn't quite name.
She wasn't naïve. She knew what this meant.
Alexander Blackwell didn't let anyone get close. Not emotionally. Not professionally. And certainly not personally.
Yet tonight… tonight something had shifted.
She tried to focus on the professional side. The notes she had taken during the dinner were detailed, organized, and ready to send out as soon as they returned. But she couldn't shake the memory of his brief, unreadable glance at her when one of the executives questioned the timeline.
It wasn't just a glance. It was recognition. Assessment. A hint of… something.
The car pulled up, and Alexander stepped out first. He held the door for her, and she noticed a flicker of hesitation in his movements—subtle, but there.
Inside the building, the elevator ride to the executive floor was quieter than usual. Ava dared a glance at him. He was staring straight ahead, jaw tight, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the railing. Something unspoken lingered between them.
"You handled yourself well tonight," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. His tone was low, controlled, but there was an edge to it that made her heart skip.
"Th-thank you, sir," Ava stammered.
He didn't respond. Instead, he stepped off the elevator first and led the way to his office. Once inside, he set his bag down and motioned for her to follow.
"Sit," he commanded, motioning to the chair across from his desk.
Ava obeyed, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in her head.
Alexander leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together on the desk. He studied her silently, and she felt like he was reading her very thoughts.
"You were prepared," he said finally. "You anticipated questions, recorded key points accurately, and didn't hesitate."
Ava blinked. "I… I just did what you asked, sir."
He tilted his head slightly. "No. You did more. You adapted. That's what impressed me."
Her stomach flipped. No one ever said that to her. Not like that. Not with that… weight behind it.
Alexander's phone buzzed, and he glanced at it briefly. "There's follow-up work from the dinner. You'll review the contracts and send summaries to the relevant parties first thing in the morning."
"Yes, sir."
"And Ava?"
She looked up immediately.
"Don't let tonight make you think this changes anything."
"Yes, sir," she said, even though her chest tightened. She wanted to argue, to say that tonight had changed everything, but she held her tongue.
Alexander turned back to his tablet, the moment over, and Ava rose quietly.
As she walked back to her desk, she realized something terrifying and exhilarating at the same time: she didn't just want to meet his expectations anymore. She wanted to exceed them.
And she knew that with every step she took in this world of ice and power, the stakes were higher.
But for the first time, Ava also felt something she hadn't before: that maybe, just maybe, she could survive in it.
Even if Alexander Blackwell didn't exactly approve of her.
Even if he didn't acknowledge it.
Because somewhere under that frozen exterior, she felt the faintest warmth.
And she wanted to see where it led.