Chapter 8
Claire's POV
A week had passed since Lucius dropped me off, and I hadn't seen him once at the company. Our terse conversation in his car must have worked. Though, realistically, he was the CEO, drowning in high-stakes meetings all day, and I was nothing more than a lowly finance assistant. The vast chasm between our positions meant our paths weren't likely to cross anyway.
I was content with this peaceful routine, still employed, maintaining my normal work schedule. If only my mother would stop being so relentlessly invested in my love life, everything would be perfectly fine.
"Claire, it's time for you to settle down, darling, get married, and have a family of your own. My good friend has introduced you to a university professor. I've already arranged for you to meet next week!"
Ever since Ethan's spectacular betrayal, my mother had been on a desperate mission to match me with someone new. Whenever I attempted to object, the waterworks would start, forcing me to capitulate just to dry her tears.
A week later, I found myself sitting in a romantically lit restaurant, the soft glow doing little to ease my irritation as I waited for my mother's latest prospect.
At seven o'clock sharp, a man in crisp grey trousers, a pristine white shirt, and gold-rimmed glasses slid into the seat across from me.
"Hello, I'm Hank Cruise. Twenty-nine, college professor." His introduction was clean and efficient, delivered with the precision of a well-practiced elevator pitch.
I assessed him carefully, lifting my chin slightly. "I have a few questions for you."
The man before me looked gentle enough, almost unassuming. I didn't immediately dislike him, which, given my mood, was something of a minor miracle.
Still, I utterly detested these arranged dates. I was only here to appease my mother. I decided to say something so outrageously provocative, hoping he'd take the hint and make a graceful exit. Besides, it might send a clear message to Susan not to introduce me to random men in the future.
"Ask away. If I can answer, I will." Hank offered a warm, easy smile, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth.
"Do you own property?" I asked bluntly, watching his reaction like a hawk.
Anyone who could afford real estate in this city either came from old money or commanded an exceptional, almost impossible, salary. I doubted a professor's income would stretch to homeownership here.
This question only made Hank's smile widen. "I live in a two-thousand-square-foot apartment."
I blinked in surprise, quickly recovering my composure. "It must be in a terrible location or a run-down building, then."
"Do you drive a Mercedes?" I pressed on, determined to find a flaw.
Hank's smile deepened, a quiet confidence radiating from him. "I drive a Land Rover currently. If you prefer Mercedes, I could certainly consider changing it in the future."
I stared at him, momentarily speechless. Frustrated by his unflappable demeanor, I continued, "My salary is terrible, and my temper is worse."
"That's perfectly fine. Women are entitled to their moods. I understand completely." Hank maintained his gentle, reassuring presence.
Exasperated that my plan wasn't working, I slapped the table lightly. "What is wrong with you? You have a beautiful home, a good car, you're handsome, and you're a professor. Why on earth would you want someone like me?"
"What's wrong with you?" Hank looked genuinely confused, his brow furrowing slightly.
"My father abandoned us for another woman when I was young. I'm from a broken home. My mother and sister depend on me financially. My ex-boyfriend said I wasn't feminine enough, then cheated on me with my stepsister." The words tumbled out.
"Anything else?" Hank's smile remained, completely unchanged, unwavering.
"No." I lowered my gaze, defeated, and took a long sip of my juice. I'd laid bare all my flaws, yet he hadn't flinched.
"You're the most interesting woman I've met in years," he said finally, his tone thoughtful. "Honestly, I hate blind dates, but I'm not very good at making friends naturally. Would you object to us being ordinary friends?" He handed me his business card.
Friends? The tension, which I hadn't realized how tightly wound it was, immediately drained from my shoulders.
Being just friends seemed harmless enough.
I took the card, a genuine sense of relief washing over me, and we actually began to relax, truly enjoying our meal and conversation.
To my surprise, talking with Hank became genuinely pleasant. I didn't dislike him at all. In fact, having such a kind, understanding friend seemed rather appealing.
After dinner, Hank insisted on driving me home. I waited at the restaurant entrance while he fetched his car from the parking lot.
"Claire?" A familiar voice, edged with a strange mix of curiosity and something else I couldn't quite decipher, called from behind me.
I turned to see my supervisor, Gary Ackerman, his expression uncharacteristically keen.
"Manager! Are you here for dinner too?" I asked, surprised by the coincidence.
Just then, Lucius emerged from the restaurant alongside a prominent businessman, his powerful presence immediately commanding every ounce of my attention. His eyes briefly, intensely, locked with mine.
It seemed whenever I dared to step out for a meal, I would inevitably run into someone I absolutely did not want to see.
Gary, a sudden glint in his eye, asked, "Would you like to have dinner with your friends tonight?"
My rescue arrived just in time; Hank's car pulled up to the curb. "My friend is here!" I blurted out, relief washing over me in a wave.
Gary's eyes narrowed slightly. "Boyfriend?"
"No, it's just... an ordinary friend." I denied it quickly, feeling a strange flush creep up my neck.
"Claire, why are you blushing? Are you shy?" Gary pressed, his tone teasing.
I raised my head, intending to retort, and accidentally locked eyes with Lucius. Something flickered deep in his gaze, a dark, dangerous spark that made my instincts scream.
I lowered my head instantly, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
"Goodbye, Manager!" I managed, practically scurrying away, shoving myself into Hank's passenger seat.
I glanced back through the glass, only to see Lucius still watching me, his gaze unblinking. I quickly turned away, a knot forming in my stomach.
I'd always prided myself on being a straightforward, no-nonsense person, so why did I feel so utterly uneasy about bumping into Lucius while having dinner with Hank? This was completely unlike me.
Early the next morning, Gary met me with a grim, serious look.
"A few days ago, our finance department made a major mistake in the development project. We've been summoned."
"How serious is it?" I asked nervously, a cold dread washing over me. I'd spent half a month working overtime on that very plan.
"We'll know when we get there."
As soon as we walked into the sleek, intimidating office, Lucius angrily threw a thick folder onto the expansive desk.
"How do you people work? How can you make such low-level mistakes? Do you even comprehend how important this project is?" His voice, usually so controlled, was raw with fury.
Mistake? The parameters were all handled by Joey. Her mother had been seriously ill these days, making Joey anxious and distracted. She must have neglected it.
"How could the parameters be wrong?" Gary asked, his own face paling.
"Find out who's responsible! They've caused significant losses to the company!" Lucius's anger was palpable, radiating off him like heat as he unbuttoned his shirt collar. A deep, almost guttural growl seemed to rumble in his chest, so low I wasn't sure if I actually heard it, or merely felt it.
"I'll investigate-" Gary began, already sweating.
"Mr. Watson, this isn't the time to assign blame," I interrupted, my voice surprisingly steady. "We need to find a solution."
Joey's mother was still hospitalized. Joey needed this job.
"Solution? How?" Lucius's tone was cutting, dripping with disdain.
"There's a bidding meeting next Monday. Too late to recalculate everything from scratch," Gary explained, wringing his hands.
"There are still six days," I offered, my chin lifting in defiance. "I'll handle the calculations."
Gary frowned, concern etched on his face. "Claire, we have several major projects running concurrently. I can't spare anyone to help you."
"I know," I said, meeting his gaze. "I believe I can do it before Monday's deadline. Alone."
Lucius's face showed nothing but utter contempt. "All by yourself in six days? Do you honestly think you're faster than a computer?"
"Isn't the computer also man-made?" I whispered, my temper getting the better of me.
The office fell deathly quiet. Lucius's gaze locked onto mine, piercing, intense. I lowered my head, instantly regretting my impulsive retort.
"If you can't finish by Monday," he stated, his voice dangerously soft, "you can leave the company."
I picked up the thick stack of budget tables, the weight of the task settling heavily on my shoulders. "Understood."
Anyway, I didn't have a good impression of him. I didn't think I could ever get promoted or receive a raise working under him. But I was desperately short on money, and the Watson Group offered an excellent salary and benefits. I had to protect both Joey's job and mine. There was no way I couldn't finish this, even if it meant camping out at the office for 24 hours straight!
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