Elara was greeted by the low hum of conversation and the click of silverware as she entered the restaurant to meet the person she had an appointment with.
Her elegant and poised appearance turned heads.
She was dressed modestly in a pair of grey pants and a black shirt, paired with nude wedges and her white limited-edition bag. The goggles covering her eyes from the world made her look unapproachable, her aura regal and commanding, someone worthy of respect.
Behind her, Antonio walked, dressed in all black from head to toe, looking sculpted from danger, daring anyone to cross his madam.
Elara looked at the vintage watch on her wrist, then at her phone when it pinged—table 12.
She spotted the table effortlessly and was about to walk towards the table when the manager stopped her.
"Hello, Miss. How can I help you?" He asked, his gaze flickering to Antonio repetitively.
He wondered which family this miss belonged to, since he hadn't been informed of anyone important, apart from a couple of names he knew were arriving today.
To maintain the high quality of food and privacy for elites, he always ensured he knew every important guest.
Elara looked at the manager and took off her goggles.
"I am here to meet Mr. Nate," Elara said blankly.
The manager nodded in understanding and personally led her to the table.
He wanted to ask more, always the one to love gossip and news, but when met with Antonio's impassive glare, he swallowed the questions and left quickly to attend to other guests.
As soon as the manager reached the corner, he stopped a waitress known at the restaurant for her up-to-date news on entertainment circles.
"Do you recognize that woman?" He asked.
The waitress looked at Elara. The woman looked like a celebrity—a much more refined one than those already in the market—but she couldn't recognize her.
"No, sir. But she doesn't look ordinary."
She shook her head before leaving.
"No one like her ever is," the manager whispered.
She has to be someone important from an influential family. My intuition about recognizing rich lads can't be wrong, given 30 years of experience. The manager thought before smiling when he saw another important guest arrive and walked to them.
At the same time, Elara, who was sitting alone at the seat and going over the menu to order something for herself as she waited, stopped when she felt someone stop before her.
With an elegant sweep of her hair, she looked up, her dazzling eyes meeting the man she was here to meet.
"To what do I owe this pleasure of finally entertaining Miss Elara?" Mr. Nate Tin said, looking at his assistant, who immediately stepped forward and helped him out of his coat, draping it over the chair.
Mr. Nate's gaze flickered to the bodyguard briefly.
"You have grown quite into an elegant lady since we last met," he complimented her.
Elara's lips curved faintly before she nodded briefly.
"The pleasure is all mine. You have aged rather well for someone buried in contracts," she replied.
Mr. Mate chuckled.
He was only a couple of years older than her, but since everyone around him called him Mr. Nate, she adopted the same habit.
"Still as sharp as I remember," he said.
"Let's skip the pleasantries. Have you brought what I asked you to?" Elara asked, getting straight to business.
The man nodded at his assistant, who opened a briefcase and pulled out a contract for her.
"Let's order something first. You can look at the contract while waiting," he suggested.
Elara agreed with him, and they ordered the dishes.
Once done, Elara flipped the contract to the last page, where the terms and conditions were mentioned, and read them carefully.
The man smirked at her work ethic and cautious nature.
"Still the cautious one. Most people skip to the signature part right after the payment part," he said.
"I am not most people," Elara said.
"I know," he said with a soft smile.
"I wouldn't dare to cross you, Miss Elara. You can stay assured. I haven't placed any superficial clause there," Nate said.
Elara still looked at the rest of the contract, her eyes lingering on the payment part. To say she was surprised would be an understatement. She briefly looked up at the man.
"You are overpaying," she stated.
"It's not overpaying but rather investing in a rare talent. You have finally given us this chance after four long years. I have to try everything to keep you. Even if it means bribing you with more money," Nate said with utmost seriousness.
Elara shook her head, smiling inwardly before she placed the contract on the table.
She pulled out the pen from her purse and was about to sign the contract when the man stopped her hand.
Antonio stepped forward when he saw the man's hand on Elara's, but Elara nodded to him, indicating it was fine, and he stepped back, his gaze narrowing at the assistant, who was looking at him a bit weirdly.
"Before you sign, I want to know the reason why. Why do you want to work with us? I know that if you put your music out into the world, many companies will come crawling to you. My own brother is a competitor," Nate said.
Elara smiled before she signed her name on the contract and put the cap back over the pen.
She leaned back in her seat elegantly.
"I like working with handsome people," she said, roaming her fingers in the air to outline his face.
The man raised his brows at her blatant answer.
"I know I am handsome, but no one has said that so blatantly," Mr. Nate said.
Elara rolled her eyes.
"Don't get ahead of yourself. My bodyguard is much better looking than you," she said, and the man glared at her.
"You have a way of putting someone on a pedestal and then pulling them down with a jerk. You humble people quite faster than anyone I know," Mr. Nate said.
"Then again, why am I even surprised?" He shook his head and was about to extend his hand to take the contract when someone stopped at their table.
Elara looked up and noticed Andrew and Beatrice standing there.
Her brows quirked.
"Miss Elara, what a pleasant surprise. We didn't know you were here," Beatrice said, her eyes lingering on the contract on the table.
Elara didn't even look at the girl; her gaze was fixated on Andrew, who seemed pretty annoyed and in a rush for his meeting.
"Who are you meeting? And what is this?" Beatrice was about to extend her hand to grab the contract when Nate's assistant beat her to it.
He looked at her with narrowed eyes and placed the contract in the briefcase.
Nate looked at Elara, silently asking her if she knew this woman who was being overly friendly. He wasn't someone who personally met every artist he hired.
The only reason he came here to meet her was because he had asked her so desperately to join his company back then, and because he had an inkling of her presence.
Thus, having to interact with an unknown, overly friendly woman wasn't something he would do.
Elara noticed his discomfort.
"You have a fancy habit of interrupting conversations that don't concern you," Elara said, and Beatrice paused.
She was pretty taken aback. Elara had never been so outwardly hostile towards her as she has been acting these days.
"I was just—"
"Interrupting," Elara completed the sentence for her. "And being where no one invited you to," Elara said, her cold gaze sweeping over her face.
Beatrice's smile faltered, and her eyes teared up.
"Elara, you don't have to be so rude," Andrew said impatiently.
Elara nodded.
"Exactly, Andrew. I don't have to be anything—especially polite—to people who can't stay in their lane. Did I invite you here? I am sure you have a meeting to attend; go on with your work," She said.
Andrew looked at her one last time, his gaze stopping at the man, before he asked Beatrice to leave.
Beatrice held Andrew's hand in the pretense of grabbing his attention, a victorious smile spreading on her lips, knowing all too well Elara could see them.
"Who was that man, Drew? Why was Elara meeting him? And what was that contract? She isn't doing something bad, is she?" Beatrice asked one after the other.
Andrew's expression grew even colder.
As an influential businessman, he knew who that man was, but he was indeed curious about why Elara was meeting him. And that contract… What was that for?
Just what kind of trick are you pulling this time, Elara? I have to give it to you; this time, you have indeed surpassed your previous tricks. Three days without talking to me must be a new milestone for you. Andrew wondered.
"Did you know those guys?" Mr. Nate asked, and Elara hummed vaguely.
"Sir, you have a meeting in an hour. The exhibition that you were invited to," Nate's assistant informed him, and Nate furrowed his brows.
He really wanted to catch up with Elara.
"I know," he groaned.
They ate their food, discussing various industry aspects before Nate stood to leave.
"It was a pleasure," Nate said, and Elara nodded before shaking his hand.
Nate stopped for a few seconds.
"You know what? There's this weapon exhibition happening. Not really my kind of thing, but it will be bearable with good company. Can you accompany me?" He asked.
Elara looked at Antonio, who nodded, and she hummed.
"I am invited to that exhibition. We can go together," she said.