Chapter 700 From This Moment, He Will Love Her Right 2
Isadora hurried down to the lobby.
Avery was lounging on one of the leather sofas in the public seating area, looking perfectly at ease. A small side table beside him held a steaming cup of coffee, its aroma drifting through the air.
The receptionist stood nearby, all smiles, chatting with him like he was royalty. "Ms. Penrose will be down shortly. Please, make yourself comfortable. I brought you a couple of business magazines."
Avery's mood was clearly excellent.
His voice was smooth, polite, almost disarmingly so. "No need, thank you. The mother of my child will be here any minute."
The mother of my child.
The receptionist's heart practically skipped a beat. She wanted to broadcast those words across the entire building, to feed the gossip wildfire.
Unfortunately for her, Isadora arrived quickly — and she heard it too.
Avery leaned back casually, as if nothing in the world could ruffle him.
"The coffee's good," he said, "but your magazines are a little out of date."
Isadora walked over, picked up the two magazines, glanced at them, and said coolly, "If you buy my company, then you can start giving orders."
Avery didn't miss a beat. "I'll buy. Will you sell?"
She froze. The words were too familiar — the exact same exchange they'd had two years ago during a deal, back when she had been forced to swallow her pride and he had looked down at her from a position of power.
That same night, they had ended up in bed. She hadn't been a virgin, and Avery hadn't asked. She had assumed he didn't care, that he was simply casual about such things.
She had never imagined he remembered that night at all. But now, with the moment replaying itself, both of them felt the weight of it.
Six years. They had been tangled up in each other's lives for six years.
The air between them shifted, charged with something unspoken. The receptionist was peeking over the counter, and the once-empty lobby now had people drifting through, stealing glances.
Isadora swept the room with a single look. "Isn't it still working hours?"
Within seconds, the lobby cleared, leaving only the receptionist.
Avery stepped closer, his voice low. "You manage people well."
Isadora, still annoyed about that kiss, gave a short, dismissive hum. "You talk too much."
He was usually the picture of restraint in public, but now there was a teasing glint in his eyes. "I don't just talk too much. I have a lot of… skills."
She frowned. "Are you going through an early midlife crisis?"
Without shame, Avery replied, "I just need a woman's touch. Men and women are the same that way."
Isadora was used to the cold, distant Avery, the one who kept his emotions locked away. This shameless version was rare — and unsettling.
She had no desire to disappoint Maggie, but she wanted even less to be trapped in a car alone with him. That kiss still lingered in her mind far too vividly.
In the parking lot, Avery noticed she was driving separately and didn't protest.
Plenty of time. No rush.
Two cars, one behind the other, pulled up at Maggie's preschool. When they got out, Avery walked toward her. "In front of Maggie, we should at least put on a show, don't you think?"
Isadora ignored him, walking ahead.
Avery followed with a faint smile. He had never truly been in a relationship before, and right now, he was enjoying himself. They weren't officially together, but this — this felt good.
Five minutes later, they had Maggie with them. She was glowing with happiness, seeing both her parents together. She insisted on holding one hand of each, just like her classmates, and demanded they all go out for dinner.
Avery scooped her up, then looked at Isadora, his gaze intent. "What do you say?"
Isadora hesitated. It felt too intimate. But she couldn't bring herself to say no to Maggie.
Before she could answer, Avery leaned in, his voice a quiet murmur, "I won't kiss you again. Unless you ask me to."
Isadora gave a cold laugh. "The earth would stop turning before that happens."
In the past, Avery would have argued. Today, he didn't. He didn't even try. He simply looked at her with a softness that made her uncomfortable, so much so that she had to glance away.
It wasn't her fault. Part of it was the tenderness in his eyes. The other part was that Avery was, infuriatingly, beautiful.
In the end, they went to dinner together.
When the three of them walked into the restaurant, the host smiled. "Table for three?"
Before Isadora could speak, Avery answered, "Three. By the window, please. Somewhere the little one can see the Ferris wheel."
The host's eyes lingered — he looked familiar. Recognition clicked. The Montague Group's CEO. Service immediately shifted into overdrive. They were given the best table in the house, and Maggie was handed a brand-new Rubik's Cube, which made her beam.
Once they were seated, Maggie was absorbed in her toy.
Avery unfolded his napkin, then handed the menu to Isadora with a surprising gentleness. "After all these years, I don't think we've ever sat down for a proper meal together. And now, it's with Maggie."
Isadora felt a flicker of the same sentiment, but she pushed it down. "There's no point in talking like that. Avery, we—"
"I know we're over," he said, his gaze steady. "But we have Maggie. That makes us family. We'll still see each other, still share a table on her birthdays. Isn't that true?"
She couldn't deny it. Later, as she looked down at the menu, she murmured, "Just don't cross the line. If you keep acting like you did in the car, we won't be able to get along."
"Like in the car?" His tone was almost amused.
Isadora bit back a sigh. He was impossible.
Avery spared no expense. She ordered freely, and the food came quickly, filling the table. The roast turkey legs and Mexican wraps were as good as their reputation, and Maggie ate with such delight that her cheeks glistened with oil.
There was nothing more satisfying than seeing your child happy. Isadora couldn't bring herself to ruin it. She would tolerate Avery for Maggie's sake — but she would keep reminding him of the boundaries. She told herself that once he was married, these flirtatious gestures would cease. It was temporary.
Maggie's world was full of small joys. After the meal, she wanted them both to help her make little clay figurines. Avery agreed to everything, and Isadora, tired as she was, stayed.
She had to admit — Avery was good with children.
Maggie was calm and content with him. Every time she looked up at him, she smiled in a way that made Isadora's chest tighten — part ache, part relief.
It was after nine when Maggie finally yawned, declaring she was ready for bed. Within seconds, she was asleep on Avery's shoulder.
He turned slightly toward Isadora. "Put my coat over her. Keep her warm."
Isadora reached for the coat and draped it over Maggie with care. In doing so, she leaned close — close enough that a strand of her hair brushed against his cheek. She didn't notice. Just as she was about to pull away, Avery's hand caught hers.
She startled, eyes stinging unexpectedly.
He let go almost instantly.
It lasted no more than a heartbeat, so brief it could have been imagined. But the lingering heat on her skin told her it had happened. And she couldn't shake the feeling — maybe it was her imagination, maybe not — that Avery hadn't given up.
She didn't want to think about it. Turning away sharply, she said, "It's late. Let her sleep at your place tonight. I won't pick her up tomorrow. I'll get her on Sunday."
Under the warm glow of the lights, Avery looked at her, his voice low and steady. "Are you afraid?"