The Wrong Date

c glass roof. Jeremy Brown stayed parked across from Le Saint-Martin, his hands resting casually on the hand-stitched leather steering wheel. Through the rain-stre

oulders of her oversized black blazer. She moved with a wild, unfiltered urgency-a complete c

avy double glass doors, a slow, uncharact

e bright with genuine amusement. He shook his head softly, letting out a low, breathless laugh that echoed in the quiet cabin. Watching her crumble from a picture-perfect, demandi

ressed firmly against her ribs, her breath hitching in her throat with every step. Her mind was a chaotic blur. The shame of sitting across from Jeremy Br

numbers mounted on the dark wal

... Room

ut doors as if Jeremy's ghost were still lingering inside. Three doors down,

to take three deep, agonizingly slow breaths. She smoothed down the emerald silk of her dr

ss handle and push

ng down at a leather-bound wine list, was a man in his late twenties wearing a neatly pressed beige tailored suit.

ckly, her voice dripping with soft, practiced politeness as

registered her appearance-the emerald dress, the bold red lipstick,

unassuming smile. "London traffic on a rainy

ring the two thousand pounds sitting in her acc

eat across from him as he gestured politely. "I

his seat and unfolding his linen napkin. "My mother spoke very hi

ffered a bright, cheerful smile,

speak, his voice s

rown's fingers on her elbow. She could still hear his deep, gra

hunderstorm-and Celine was terrified b

tting in her account and the exact job she had been hired to do. She had to ac

us your most expensive bottle of champagne immediately. And make sure it's chilled

ng slightly. "Oh... champagne? I was actual

her manicured nails. "Lists are for ordinary people. Now, tell me about yourself, but keep

t on the table. "Right... well, I work as a mid-level financ

when we get married, I expect you to double your income within six months. I have a very refined taste, Williams. I don't do 'mid-level'. And my mother wi

eer horror. "Your... your mother is moving in? Marriage

nd dismissively. "If you can't handle a strong, high-m

ng about the lighting, and laying out absurd, impossible demands for their hypothetical future. Williams looked like a man

Williams sweat, her thoughts drifted right back to the dark Maybach parked out in the rain.

ified of her fabr

t. Jeremy leaned his head back against the leather headrest, his long fingers casuall

ployer sit idle in a parked vehicle for more than two minutes. Jeremy Brown's time was calculated in thousands of pounds per minute. Yet

nce, echoing through the car's premium sound system. The centr

econds before pressing the button on

aid, his deep voic

. There was the faint sound of classical piano playing in the background of her estate in Surrey.

eyes never leaving the illuminated glass entranc

surprised, a soft gasp escaping he

ing lik

fore. "But that isn't the primary reason I called you tonight, darling. I was speaking with Lady Eleanor this afternoon, and it brought something back t

he shifted his weight against the leather seat. "Mum, we've had this con

ou! All you care about are acquisitions, stock valuations, and quarterly reports. Do you need help? Because if you are too busy to find someone

a firm, undeniable register that instantly cut off

rem

d a shadow move behind the curtain of Room 6 on the restaurant's ground floor, "I

t, bewildered breath. She knew her son. When Jeremy Brown spoke with that

r said slowly, a hint of suspicion creeping in

n of the rain sliding down his window, the faint memory of C

mured smoothly, sidestepping the question wi

defeated but affectionate. "Do

athed quiet again. Jeremy rested his chin on his knuckles, hi

s merciful end. Williams practically shoved his credit ca

tood up from the table, looking utterly exhausted. "You are.

hough her heart sang with victory. She had earned her two tho

othed her emerald dress, and walked out into the carpeted corridor. She stepped thro

a waiting cab, speeding away down

er shoulders against the London drizzle. She let out a long, heavy sigh of relief, reaching in

et, a metallic car door open

mb froze ove

k, pitch-black Maybach. Stepping out from the driver's side, buttoning

a sudden, violent th

ouse or his office. He had stayed parked across th

his broad shoulders cutting an intimidating, impossibly handsome silhouette. Hi

ng in her throat as the sheer reality

her. At six-foot-two, his presence was completely overwhelm

irk touched the corn

id softly, his deep baritone carrying cl