Chapter 26: Their First Dinner Together
Cora smiled politely and let them talk. So this is what power smells like to them—proximity. She didn’t hate them for it. She just couldn’t forget how invisible she’d been before.
“Order whatever you like,” someone urged, pushing the menu toward her. “Really.”
She scanned the options and chose simple dishes—broth, grilled fish, steamed greens. The table erupted in relief, as though she’d done them a favor.
Plates arrived. Chopsticks clicked. Conversation circled back, again and again, to one subject.
Mr. Watson.
“Is he really that cold in person?”
“Does he ever… joke?”
“What does he eat? Does he actually eat?”
Cora answered noncommittally where she could, dodged the rest with a faint smile. She thought about the steady weight of his hand on hers under the lunch table, the way he’d replaced her wine with juice without looking at her, the knife-edged softness of: You’re a mother now. Protect yourself.
Cold? Yes.
But not to the child. And not always to her.
She took another sip of tea. “He’s… precise,” she said at last. “He notices more than people think.”
That seemed safe—and true.
Cora recognized the man across from her — slick, silver-tongued, and one of her worst old coworkers. Back then, he’d dumped every spreadsheet and late-night task on her, treating her like an invisible assistant.
She figured today’s sudden friendliness had a reason. After all, everyone had seen what happened to the sales manager at lunch. If that kind of power shift didn’t scare people straight, nothing would.
Cora just smiled and nodded. Relationships had never been her strong suit. As long as she didn’t offend anyone, that was good enough for her.
Her phone buzzed.
She frowned. Julian?
Since when had she saved his number?
“Hello?”
His voice came through, low and clipped. “Where are you?”
Cora hesitated. “Having dinner… with coworkers.”
“Address.”
She blinked, startled by the command in his tone, but still sent him her location.
Moments later, noise rippled outside the private room. The door slid open, and Austin appeared, looking slightly winded.
“Team Lead, Mr. Watson’s here.”
The whole table froze.
Then — chaos.
Chairs scraped. Everyone jumped to their feet, faces pale.
Cora, still confused, stayed seated. Why on earth would he come here?
Julian entered, tall and cool, eyes immediately finding her.
“Mr… Mr. Watson,” one of the coworkers stammered, trembling.
He didn’t even glance at them. He walked straight to Cora’s side and sat down.
Austin set a small table in front of him — just a glass of water, nothing else.
“Do you like this place?” Julian asked evenly.
Cora blinked. “I’ve never been here before.”
Only then did his gaze drift toward the others. “What’s wrong? Not happy to see me?”
They all shook their heads furiously. “No, of course not! It’s an honor, sir!”
Dishes kept arriving, fragrant and colorful. No one touched them.
Cora sat frozen, appetite gone. With Julian beside her — quiet, sharp, unreadable — who could even swallow?
She forced down a slice of salmon, feeling dozens of uneasy eyes darting between them.
Julian, perfectionist that he was, didn’t touch a single bite.
When the dinner finally ended, Cora rose, meaning to thank her coworkers, but Julian was already on his feet, walking out.
Austin gestured for her to follow. “Team Lead, this way.”
By the time they left the restaurant, the others were whispering behind them.
“Mr. Watson came just for her?”
“Please. Everyone knows by now. She’s obviously—”
The sentence died when Austin turned his head.
Outside, Julian’s car waited. He opened the passenger door.
“Get in.”
Cora hesitated, then obeyed. The moment they were on the road, the car surged forward like a bullet.
“Mr. Watson! I’m pregnant!” she snapped, clutching the seatbelt.
“It’s after hours,” he said coolly. “You can drop the formalities.”
The car slowed at once.
Cora stared out the window, refusing to answer. His moods were mercurial, impossible to track.
Julian’s gaze drifted to her hand — bare, ringless. His expression darkened.
“Where’s your ring?”
She turned, startled. “My… ring?”
“It’s not on your hand.”
She hesitated. Wasn’t it his idea to keep their marriage secret?
“I didn’t want to lose it,” she said finally. “It’s expensive.”
The tension in his jaw eased a little.
Cora exhaled quietly. This man is impossible.
When they reached home, she punched in the code and stepped inside. Turning back, she found Julian following her in. Instinctively, she fetched him a pair of slippers. Odd — the housekeeper was gone.
“The staff was temporary,” Julian said, voice softer. “New ones arrive tomorrow. A maid and a gardener.”
Cora nodded.
“If you like Japanese food,” he added, “I’ll hire a private chef.”
Cora froze, caught off guard. “No need. I’m not that picky.”
Her stomach rumbled softly in betrayal. She hadn’t eaten much at dinner — and pregnancy hunger didn’t wait. She gave a small nod and turned toward the kitchen.
The fridge was packed, overflowing with fresh produce she barely recognized. So this is what luxury looks like, she thought wryly.
Too lazy to fuss, she grabbed some pasta instead. When she turned, Julian was still in the living room, watching TV.
“Do you want some pasta?” she asked without thinking.
He nodded. “Sure.”
To her surprise, he sounded almost human when he said it.
The clinking of pots and utensils filled the quiet house. Julian found himself listening to the rhythm — domestic, unfamiliar.
When Cora called softly, “Dinner’s ready,” he turned off the TV and crossed the room.
Simple, ordinary words. But somehow, they sounded good.
He sat down across from her at the table.
Their first dinner together had finally begun.