Chapter 2

When I sent out my last email, it still wasn’t dark.

Remembering I was supposed to hit the gym later, I grabbed my jacket and left the office. As the elevator descended, the floor numbers blinked down one by one, as if reminding me the workday was over. Even so, there were still a few loose ends running through my head: among the projects in the pending pile, two still needed additional supply chain documentation, and another one required a more complete compliance explanation.

As for Evelyn’s file, I had already marked it. Once the risk-control materials were fully supplemented, it could move into the next round of review.

The underground parking garage was much emptier than it had been during the day. I pressed my key fob, and the headlights flashed in the distance.

I walked over, got into the car, and started backing out.

There was a turn in the garage with too many pillars, breaking up the line of sight into blind spots.

I wasn’t driving fast. I had just turned the corner when I saw a silver SUV nosing out from the side.

Whoever was driving clearly hadn’t seen my front end either. We both hit the brakes almost at the same time, but not quite soon enough. The front corners of our cars bumped lightly.

The sound wasn’t loud. It was more like two plastic shells scraping against each other.

I slammed on the brake, shifted into park, and got out.

The driver’s door of the silver SUV opened too. A woman stepped out, glanced down at her front bumper, then looked up at me. The garage lighting was cold, but I recognized her face at once.

Evelyn.

I wasn’t shocked. If Evelyn was pursuing a deal with my company, it wasn’t strange that she was here. What was strange was that I had no meeting scheduled with her today—unless she had shown up uninvited.

Evelyn recognized me too.

There was a clear pause in her movement, as if some old memory had clicked into place in her head. Then her eyes moved away from my face and dropped back to where the cars had touched.

Her reaction wasn’t surprise, and it certainly wasn’t the nostalgia of an old reunion. It was assessment. She was judging what position I might hold here now, and whether I was worth changing her tone for.

I looked at the point of contact between the two cars. There was a faint scuff in the paint, nothing deep. A simple polish would take care of it.

My front bumper looked the same.

“Minor scrape,” I said. “Take pictures for the record. I’ll take mine too. Insurance or private settlement—it’s your call.”

As I spoke, I pulled out my phone and took two photos, making sure the angle, plates, and position were all clear.

Evelyn didn’t move. Her gaze lingered on my car, then swept over my suit jacket. It was as if she had finally confirmed something. One corner of her mouth lifted, and when she spoke, her tone carried a familiar note of condescension.

“Oliver,” she said, “you work here now?”

I didn’t answer that. I put my phone away and said, “If you’re in a hurry, we can call traffic control right now.”

She acted as if she hadn’t heard me. She stepped half a pace closer, closing the distance, her eyes fixed on me.

“What are you doing in this building?” she asked. “Did you know I was coming today?”

I looked at her and answered evenly, “I’m getting off work.”

“Getting off work?” She gave a short laugh, as if I’d said something ridiculous. “What are you here, then? Admin? Project assistant? Or some department manager?”

She pronounced manager very clearly, as if that was the highest position she was willing to assign me.

I had no intention of explaining.

I opened the driver’s door, took a notepad from the glove compartment, wrote down my number, and handed it to her.

“This is my contact information. If you want to go through insurance, your people can handle it directly.”

She pinched the paper between two fingers as though it were something slightly dirty. Then she looked up at me, and her words sharpened.

“Don’t tell me you saw I was back and deliberately created this little coincidence.”

I didn’t smile, but I didn’t frown either. I just asked, “Do you want to exchange insurance information?”

Evelyn drew in a breath, visibly irritated by how little reaction she was getting from me.

Her voice rose a little, carrying clearly in the empty garage.

“I’m warning you—don’t bring that old routine into the present. We’ve been over for a long time. If you’re still trying to get close to me this way, I’ll have security throw you out.”

I looked at her once. She was still the same person who treated everyone else like supporting characters in her own story.

“There are cameras in the garage,” I said. “It won’t take much to find out who caused the accident. If you don’t want to waste time, then follow the process.”

Her expression stiffened. She clearly hadn’t expected me to drag the conversation back to procedure, and even less had she expected me not to react to her personal provocation at all.

After a pause, she seemed to remember something and switched to an even colder tone.

“Forget it. I’m not short on money over a little scratch. And don’t use this as an excuse to come looking for me. Also—”

She stepped forward until she was almost against my car door and lowered her voice, speaking as if she were saying something civilized that absolutely had to be heard clearly.

“Don’t follow me. And don’t go asking around about what I’m doing now. The person I’m here to see is someone you can’t touch. If you have even a little self-respect, stay away from me.”

I closed the car door and replied with a single sentence.

“Don’t worry.”

She obviously took that as sarcasm.

A faintly contemptuous smile flashed through her eyes, as if every word she’d just spoken had landed exactly where she wanted.

Then, in a gesture that felt almost like alms, she handed me her business card.

“If anything comes up, contact my assistant,” she said. “Don’t contact me directly.”

I took the card without looking at it and slipped it into the inside pocket of my jacket.

“If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving,” I said.

Evelyn lifted a brow. “That eager to run? Afraid I’ll see how little you’ve amounted to?”

I didn’t look back. I opened the car door, got in, fastened my seat belt, and shifted into gear.

In the rearview mirror, she stood beside the silver SUV with her arms folded across her chest.

Once I was out of the garage, I picked up speed. Soon the only sound in my ears was the steady hum of the engine.

My heartbeat didn’t quicken because of that encounter, and nothing she said stirred any urge in me to prove anything.

That relationship had ended a long time ago, and it had ended cleanly. If she chose to interpret today as me still not being over her, that was her way of making sense of the world—not mine.

My phone buzzed again. It was my assistant, asking whether I wanted the pending list brought to the morning meeting tomorrow as well.

I replied: Bring it.

—

When Evelyn walked into the lobby, the front desk hadn’t switched shifts yet.

She was wearing a sharply tailored trench coat, carrying a briefcase, and moving with the kind of brisk confidence that seemed to announce to everyone around her: I’m busy. She gave her name and company and said she wanted to see the CEO.

The receptionist politely asked whether she had an appointment number.

Evelyn smiled, though the smile never reached her eyes.

“Do I look like someone who wouldn’t?” she said. “I’m here to discuss a partnership. You just need to tell me what floor he’s on.”

The receptionist called up to the executive floor to confirm. The answer came back quickly.

“The CEO has already left for the day. He won’t be seeing any visitors.”

Evelyn’s brows drew down at once. “He’s gone? At this hour?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the receptionist said, still smiling. “If you need to confirm a meeting time, please contact your project liaison. We don’t have the authority to arrange anything directly here.”

Evelyn was used to people opening doors for her. Being turned away like this clearly did not sit well with her.

She paused for two seconds, as if weighing whether to make a scene. In the end, she held it back and only asked coldly, “Then can I leave a message?”

“Of course.”

She gave her phone number and asked the receptionist to pass along a message: she would be available tomorrow morning and hoped the CEO could spare ten minutes, because she had a more complete proposal she could explain in person. She said it in the tone of someone offering an opportunity, not asking for one.

The receptionist wrote it down and said it would be passed along.

Evelyn turned and walked out of the lobby. At the revolving door, she looked back once at the building, her expression edged with frustration.

She had come here for one reason: to secure the most important funding channel for the next stage of her company’s survival.

She saw this partnership as the step she needed to move upward, and the CEO she had never managed to meet as the one target she absolutely had to win over.