Nathan pulled into the hotel driveway with Marv's voice still in his ear, the car gliding to a stop as the valet stepped forward. He slipped the gear into park and handed over the keys while the call continued on speaker.
"So you're telling me we landed a new client," Nathan said, pushing open the lobby doors.
"Yes," Marv replied, sounding way too pleased with himself. "And it's a huge deal."
Nathan stepped into the elevator, the polished floor reflecting his tired expression back at him. "You could've just texted me, you know," he muttered. "I thought it was an emergency. I left in the middle of—"
He stopped himself. Of taking Celine home. Of wanting to stay.
"Trust me, this one is worth the call," Marv insisted.
By the time Nathan reached his room, he had his laptop open on the table, call switched off speaker. "Alright," he sighed. "Talk."
"This new client was working with another contractor," Marv explained. "That contractor got scammed and lost everything. We were brought in to take over."
Nathan frowned, fingers flying over his keyboard as he searched. "What's the name of the company?"
"RT Homebuilders. Big enough to know better, apparently."
Nathan found an article and skimmed it as Marv talked. "They were promised an exclusive long-term contract with a major real estate conglomerate, but only if they 'invested' upfront," Marv went on. "Double dividends, high returns, all that too-good-to-be-true garbage. They wired millions. The 'developer' vanished."
Nathan leaned back in his chair. "You and I could smell the scam from a mile away."
"Sure," Marv sighed. "But not everyone thinks like us. People want shortcuts. Easy money. They skip the research and sign their lives away."
"Did they catch the scammers?" Nathan asked.
"Not yet. It's a syndicate — multiple fronts, multiple countries. We've been warned to be careful," Marv said. "Anyway, point is… one company's fall turned into our opportunity. Ugly, but that's how the market works."
"Yeah," Nathan said quietly. "There's always someone ready to profit from somebody else's mistake."
They went over the details of the new deal a while longer, then ended the call.
Silence settled over the room. Nathan closed his laptop and headed straight for the shower.
Hot water hit his skin, tracing lines down his shoulders and chest. He scrubbed the day away, but his mind refused to quiet. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Celine — laughing on the court, then wincing when she twisted her ankle; smiling at him like he was the only person in the room.
He stepped out, towel slung low on his hips, damp hair falling over his forehead. As he ran another towel through his hair, one thought cut through everything else.
I should check on her.
He grabbed his phone and dialed.
"Hello…" Her voice came through, soft and sleepy, delicate as a music box.
"Hey," he said gently. "How's your ankle? Any better?"
"Hi," she replied, and he could hear the small smile in her voice. "It's a little sore, but I'll live."
Relief washed through him. He didn't realize how tense he'd been until his shoulders relaxed. His heart thudded a little too hard in his chest.
"How about you?" she added. "Did you get home safely? That call earlier sounded urgent. Is everything alright?"
Nathan's expression softened. "Yeah. I'm fine. It was just business — new deal, new problems. The usual."
"I'm glad," she said. He imagined her lying in bed, hair sprawled on the pillow, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.
"Get some rest," he told her quietly. "I'm coming by tomorrow. I left too early today — I want to make sure you're really okay. And I still owe your mom and dad a proper hello."
Celine hesitated for a moment, then gave in. "Alright," she said softly. "See you tomorrow."
He hung up and stared at his phone for a long second, realizing something he'd been trying not to name.
He missed her.
Badly.
⸻
The next morning, after a quick shower and crisp white shirt, Nathan sat on the edge of the bed and texted Adam — the man he'd met at The Black Tie Society, who somehow knew all the best spots around town.
Nathan: Need a place with the best cakes and pastries in the city. No nonsense. Recommendations?
Adam replied almost immediately, sending the name, location, and a "Trust me" message that made Nathan chuckle.
He drove out, found the bakery, and stepped into warm air scented with butter, sugar, and fresh bread. He picked out a box of delicate pastries that looked too pretty to touch — then grabbed a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of Château Pétrus Pomerol 2007 from a specialty shop.
As he walked back to his car, there was a lightness in his chest he hadn't felt in years. It felt like purpose and danger all at once — like he was walking toward something that could change everything.
I want her to be happy, he thought. Properly happy. Not for show. Not for revenge. For real.
And if that meant spending more time with her, he realized, he didn't mind at all.
⸻
At the Rosenfield estate, Celine was already in motion.
She stood in the dining room, hair tied loosely back, sleeves rolled up as she arranged table settings with precise care. She picked out the glassware herself, mixing heights and shapes, then chose terracotta, mustard, and deep green for the color blocks to give everything a warm, festive mood.
In the kitchen, she reviewed the menu with the staff — her idea entirely. A Mexican-inspired lunch: tortilla chips with salsa and guacamole, a taco station with three kinds of meat, fresh pico de gallo, lime wedges, and bowls of shredded cheese. Agua frescas in glass dispensers, margaritas, and cold beer. Dessert: warm churros dusted with cinnamon sugar.
She'd chosen marigolds, dahlias, and poinsettias for the floral arrangements — bright bursts of orange, gold, and red that made the space feel like sunshine.
Lauren watched from the doorway, arms folded, amused and secretly impressed.
"Our guest must be very important for this level of effort," she teased lightly.
Celine smiled without looking up. "I just want everyone to feel comfortable, that's all."
Lauren's gaze softened. She knew better.
Ben and Carl arrived home from golf just as the final touches were being placed. Clubs over their shoulders, still in their polos, they strode into the dining area.
"Whoa," Carl said, wide-eyed. "Did you have all this made for me?" He wrapped his arms around Celine in an exaggerated hug.
"For everyone, you idiot," she laughed, pushing him off playfully.
Ben chuckled, surveying the spread. "Looks like we're having a fiesta," he said. "Are we celebrating something?"
"You'll see," Lauren said mysteriously. "Now, you two — go shower and change. We have a guest joining us."
They exchanged a quick, curious look before heading upstairs.
The Rosenfields were wealthy, but their home never felt cold or stiff. There was laughter in the halls, warmth in the kitchen, a sense that no matter how big the estate was, family was always at the center of it.
Celine loved that. And today, she hoped Nathan would feel it too.
⸻
When Nathan arrived, the iron gates opened and the car rolled into the estate's grounds, revealing the full expanse of manicured lawns, tall trees, and elegant stone pathways.
He stepped out looking polished and quietly expensive — a soft grey knit polo, navy chinos, and a Patek Philippe hugging his wrist. He carried the pastries and flowers himself, letting the staff take only what they insisted.
Letty greeted him with a bright smile. "Welcome back, sir. I'll help you with that."
"Thank you," he said, handing her the pastry box but keeping the flowers and wine.
She led him into the main living room. Laughter floated from inside — Celine and Carl were playfully shoving each other on the couch, while Ben and Lauren watched with amused smiles.
Celine stood the moment she saw him, the room suddenly feeling a little smaller, a little softer. She wore a sage linen square-neck crop top with a matching tie-waist skort, her dark hair falling around her shoulders, bare legs crossed in casual comfort. She looked fresh, relaxed — and heartbreakingly pretty.
Nathan greeted them with respectful ease. He handed the wine to Ben. "Château Pétrus Pomerol 2007. I hope you'll enjoy it, sir."
Ben's brows rose, impressed. "You didn't have to, but… I'd be lying if I said I'm not pleased."
Nathan turned and offered the flowers to Lauren — and another smaller bundle to Celine. "For you both."
Lauren took hers, smiling. "Thank you, Nathan. These are lovely."
Celine accepted hers gently, cheeks warming. "You really didn't have to," she murmured.
He smiled slightly. "I wanted to."
They all sat and eased into conversation. Celine gently reminded her parents of how Nathan had helped her that night at The Black Tie Society. Both Ben and Lauren thanked him sincerely for taking care of their daughter.
To keep things moving — and to avoid making anyone too self-conscious — Celine suggested they move to the patio to start with appetizers.
The table outside was beautiful — bowls of tortilla chips, colorful dips, glasses catching the afternoon light.
"Oh, this is delicious," Lauren said after trying the guacamole.
"Totally," Carl added with his mouth full. "Approve. Highly."
Nathan ate quietly at first, taking things in — the banter, the easy laughter, the way Celine flowed from person to person making sure everyone had what they needed.
Then the questions began.
"So, Nathan," Lauren asked, graceful but direct. "What do you do for a living?"
Celine instinctively jumped in. "He co-owns a company called Cubix, Mom. They design—"
"Celine," Lauren interrupted in a mild but pointed tone. "Let the man answer for himself."
Celine's shoulders dropped just a little. "Sorry," she mumbled, sitting back.
Nathan smiled softly at her, then turned to Lauren. "I co-own a firm called Cubix. We specialize in project design and development. I was born here, but I live abroad now. Most of our work is international."
He skimmed politely over his family background, sharing only what he needed to. Then he added, "Actually, the reason I'm in town is to meet with HUB Inc. Your husband and I had an appointment that… unfortunately had to be cancelled."
Ben nodded, apologetic. "I'm really sorry about that. Something important came up with the family."
"It's alright, sir," Nathan replied. "I understand."
"That's when I saw him again," Celine chimed in, smiling. "At your office. It's crazy — what are the chances?"
"Well," Lauren said, sipping her margarita. "Sometimes fate is more efficient than our calendars."
Lunch was served buffet-style from a taco stand set up in the garden. Nathan watched as Celine moved between stations, tasting salsa, checking the meat, making sure the sauces were just right.
"This looks amazing, Celine," he said honestly.
She glanced at him, slightly shy. "Thank you. I think I got carried away. I like when things feel… complete," she confessed with a little laugh.
Conversation flowed easily. They talked about sports, travel, favorite cities, and little mundane things that somehow felt intimate. Celine hovered, refilling drinks, offering napkins, making sure everyone was fed. There was something almost motherly in the way she took care of the room — gentle but efficient.
Nathan watched her, quietly mesmerized.
After lunch, Celine clapped her hands once. "Anyone up for Uno or Monopoly?"
Ben and Carl immediately perked up. "Monopoly!" they said in unison. It was clearly a family ritual.
They gathered around the coffee table, game board spread out, play money, and tokens ready. Laughter soon filled the room as Carl tried to cheat, Ben pretended to play ruthless, and Celine scolded them both with fond exasperation.
Celine took a seat between Nathan and Carl. Every time Carl made her laugh, he'd bump her, and she'd lean into Nathan by accident — shoulder against his arm, thigh brushing his leg. Nathan didn't move away once. He just sat there, soaking in the warmth of it all.
It was the first time he'd truly seen her like this — relaxed, bright, competitive, and free. And all he could think was:
How could anyone break her heart?
In the end, Celine won the game. She threw her hands up, triumphant, and the entire room groaned.
"Rigged," Carl muttered.
"Talent," she corrected, grinning.
Later, when the plates had been cleared and the sun began to lower, Celine helped Letty and the staff tidy up. Lauren went to freshen up. Carl left early for another appointment.
Ben invited Nathan to the patio for a drink. The evening breeze was cool, carrying the faint scent of flowers as they sat overlooking the vast estate.
Ben poured cognac into two glasses and handed one over. "Nathan, about the other day," he began. "I truly apologize for cancelling on you. When you have children, you'll understand — sometimes everything else has to wait."
Nathan nodded. "You don't have to apologize, sir. Family should always come first."
Ben studied him for a moment, then nodded with approval. "Also, thank you for keeping Celine company. That girl has been through a lot." His voice softened, laced with a quiet pain only a father could carry.
Nathan swallowed, then spoke from somewhere deeper than politeness. "Sir, you raised an incredible daughter. And I'm… sorry if it seems things between us are moving fast. But I do care about her. A lot. I want to see her happy again."
Ben's gaze warmed. A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Relationships aren't about how long you've known someone," he said. "They're about what's in your heart — and what you're willing to do for that person."
Nathan felt those words settle in his chest like a truth he'd been avoiding.
"Listen," Ben continued, setting his glass down. "Send me your proposal. I'll review it personally."
"You really don't have to do that," Nathan replied. "I can wait for our rescheduled meeting."
"Son," Ben said with a small laugh, "send it. I don't judge people by their portfolios — I judge them by their integrity. Even the most modest businessman deserves a fair shot, don't you think?"
Nathan slowly smiled. "Yes, sir. I do."
From a distance, Celine and Lauren watched them talking — glasses in hand, posture relaxed, expressions open.
"It seems your father likes him," Lauren murmured.
Celine's heart skipped. "Does he?"
Lauren smiled knowingly. "I know your father. He doesn't smile like that for just anyone."
Celine's chest tightened in a way she wasn't ready to analyze. Nathan fit so naturally into the space beside her family it scared her a little. The thought sent her pulse racing — and this time, it had nothing to do with the plan or Dean.
It was all… Nathan.
⸻
As the sky turned shades of pink and lavender, Nathan stood to leave. He thanked Ben and Lauren for their hospitality. Both told him he was welcome anytime.
Celine walked him to the car, the evening quiet around them.
"I had a really good time," Nathan said, turning to her. "Your family is… kind. Warm. You're lucky, Celine. I hope you know that."
She smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I do," she said softly. "And I'm glad you were here to share that with us. With me."
For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them felt thick with something unspoken.
"Okay," he said finally, forcing himself to take a small step back. "I should go."
She stepped closer instead, rising on her toes to press a gentle kiss against his cheek. It was soft, shy, and lasted just a heartbeat longer than it needed to.
Nathan froze, surprise flashing across his face. As she pulled back, their eyes met — and something in him snapped.
He leaned forward and pressed his own kiss to her other cheek, just as soft, just as lingering.
They both pulled away at the same time, faces flushed, hearts pounding.
The rumble of his car being pulled around broke the moment. They stepped back, composing themselves like nothing had happened.
"Drive safe," she said, hands clasped in front of her to hide the tremble.
"I will," he replied, voice low. "Good night, Celine."
"Good night, Nathan."
He slid into the car and drove off, glancing once into the rearview mirror. She was still there at the top of the steps — small, glowing under the porch light, watching him leave.
And as the estate faded behind him, Nathan knew one thing for certain:
This stopped being just a deal a long time ago.