The sun had just dipped below the skyline, leaving behind hues of violet and gold streaking across Westbridge's twilight horizon.
Downtown had begun to buzz with nightlife energy with streetlamps flickering to life, valet attendants moving with very admirable skills, and luxury cars gliding into sleek parking bays.
Liam pulled up in front of Noir & Thyme, the discreet but famous high-end diner tucked between a boutique wine cellar and a glass art gallery.
The restaurant's signature brushed steel signage was barely noticeable unless you knew what to look for. Only those in the know ever found their way here.
He stepped out of his car, adjusting the lapel of his midnight navy Langford suit. His Patek watch gleamed faintly in the low light as he tugged down his cuff.
The George Cleverley oxfords made not a sound as he walked toward the entrance, giving him a light-footed elegance.
Once inside, the atmosphere enveloped him like a velvet curtain—dimly lit chandeliers, jazz filtering in from a baby grand piano, and the subtle scent of truffle oil and aged wood.
A hostess greeted him with a soft smile.
"Welcome to Noir & Thyme, sir. Did you make a reservation?"
"No. Stacy Burton."
The hostess gave a knowing nod.
"Private Booth 3, just down the corridor," she said.
Liam gave a quiet thanks and made his way through the plush aisle. He spotted the booth quickly.
The semi-enclosed seating offered privacy without feeling claustrophobic. Inside, Stacy sat upright, dressed in an elegant deep emerald dress that hugged her form tastefully.
Her hair was done in loose waves, and a soft gold pendant rested just above her collarbone.
She looked up as the door creaked open, her posture tensing slightly—then relaxed immediately when she saw him.
"Hey," she said with a smile, her voice warm but cautious.
"Hi," Liam replied, stepping in and closing the door softly behind him. He took the seat opposite her.
"Thanks for coming," she said, sincerity in her tone.
"It's no problem."
"I didn't order yet," she added quickly. "I wanted to wait for you."
Liam nodded, reaching for the leather-bound menu.
As he began to glance through the options, Stacy took the opportunity to study him. Her eyes roamed his outfit, subtle but practiced—observing the fabric, the cut of the suit, the clean lines, and above all, the absence of any logos.
There were no peacock labels, no overdone watches with diamonds on it screaming for attention.
As someone that's used to high-class fashion, she didn't need to ask as she already knew. The suit wasn't off-the-rack. The watch wasn't mass-produced. She didn't even recognize the leather, but she could tell they weren't ordinary.
"He's either from serious money," she thought, "or… something else entirely."
Before she could dwell or stare at him too long, as she didn't want a repeat of yesterday.
The next moment, a waitress stepped into the booth, tablet in hand.
Stacy smiled and gave her order quickly—white truffle pasta, the establishment's specialty.
Liam ordered the honey-glazed lamb with rosemary risotto.
With a bow, the waitress left them in silence.
"You look great," Stacy said, her voice soft, eyes sincere.
"Thanks," Liam replied, returning the smile. "You look beautiful."
"Really? Thank you. I wasn't sure what to wear but… I wanted to look nice."
He gave a slight nod, saying nothing more.
Stacy chuckled under her breath. "You're not very talkative, are you?"
"I don't usually have much to say."
"Fair enough," she said, leaning back slightly.
She picked up her glass of sparkling water and took a slow sip.
"Well," she said, "thank you again for meeting me. I honestly wasn't sure you'd say yes after how I acted the other day."
"It's fine."
"No," she insisted. "It wasn't. I was prying. You didn't owe me anything and I came at you like I was conducting an interview."
"You've already apologized, so it's fine," Liam said.
She laughed quietly, relieved that he wasn't holding it against her. "I blame my curiosity. It's gotten me into trouble more times than I care to admit."
Liam raised an eyebrow slightly. "That a habit of yours?"
"Kind of," she shrugged. "But in my defense, Noir & Thyme has a way of loosening tongues. I was really looking forward to tonight. Their truffle pasta and honey-glazed lamb? Unreal. And I really needed a break anyway. My week has been chaos—two family dinners, three charity events, and my best friend blowing up my phone over something that probably wasn't even important."
"Sounds intense," Liam said.
"You have no idea. I nearly lost it. How about you? How was your week?"
Liam thought for a second, his gaze lowering slightly as flashes of the past few days crossed his mind—credit alerts, luxury deliveries, the absurdly perfect suit he's wearing, and a mysterious system changing his life.
"It's been great," he said, keeping his answer simple.
Stacy tilted her head. "See, this is what I mean. You say one sentence and somehow I end up with more questions. You're impossible to figure out."
Liam gave a slight smile. "Is that so?"
She laughed again. "Okay, okay. I won't pry. I promise."
She paused, tapping a finger lightly on the rim of her glass. "I'm kind of curious to know what do you do for fun."
Liam blinked, then chuckled.
"Nothing really. I'm new here. I mostly stay indoors. My social circle is nonexistent."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
She blinked in surprise, not hiding it. "You don't go out? Clubs? Art walks? Beach drives?"
"Nope."
She sat back, thoughtful. Then her lips curved into a sly smile. "That's… unexpected. But lucky for you, you've just met someone who can fix that."
"Oh?"
"My friends and I have a private gathering tonight. Drinks, conversation, music—nothing too crazy. If you're free, I could introduce you."
Liam looked at her for a moment, considering. Then nodded. "Sure. I'd like that."
Her smile widened. "Great. We'll head out after dinner."
Their food arrived moments later.
The plates were artfully arranged—Liam's honey-glazed lamb rested beside a bed of herbed risotto, with charred asparagus layered on top. A drizzle of fig reduction added color and flavor.
Stacy's truffle pasta glistened under the overhead lighting, thinly shaved white truffle curled over ribbons of handmade fettuccine in a creamy pecorino base.
Both dishes were fragrant, warm, and elegantly portioned.
The two ate in companionable silence for the first few minutes, savoring their food. Between bites, they occasionally glanced at each other, the energy between them more relaxed now.
Stacy had kept her promise as she didn't ask any invasive questions. And Liam, enjoyed the meal and the company.
When the plates were cleared and dessert was politely declined, Stacy signaled for the bill. Liam opened his mouth, but she stopped him with a quick wave.
"My treat. This was my apology dinner, remember?"
He smiled but said nothing, allowing her the gesture. But in his mind, he made a decision that if the night goes well, he will invite her out for dinner some day.
As they stepped out of the restaurant into the cool evening air, Stacy turned to him.
"I'll drive ahead. You can follow behind me. It's not far."
"Got it."
They walked toward their cars, the street quiet save for the occasional passing vehicle. Liam slid into his seat, fired up the engine, and began to follow Stacy's silver coupe as it pulled away from the curb.
And just like that, a quiet dinner had turned into something else entirely.
Liam didn't know what the night would bring but he was curiously looking forward to it.