Chapter 32 32
Her heart squeezed so tightly she had to swallow before whispering, “Sleep, my love. Dreams are beautiful, aren’t they?”
She kissed his cheek, turned off the bedside lamp, and stepped quietly out of the room.
Just as she shut the door behind her, her phone started buzzing on the table.
Blair sighed, rubbing her tired eyes before picking it up.
“Hello…?”
A sharp, irritated voice snapped through the speaker.
“Miss Rivers, are you joking with your job?! You were supposed to be here to serve the hot coffee before closing! We had a VIP order and nobody could find you. Do you think this is some charity café?!”
Blair froze, clutching the phone tighter.
“I—I wasn’t informed about any VIP order,” she said, her voice small. “I already signed out because work closed early—”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t hear. Mr. Brooks is getting engaged tonight. Big event. Press. Special guests. And YOU… were assigned to serve the signature coffee.”
The call ended before Blair could say another word.
She sat there, numb.
The house so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat.
Engaged.
Her hands shook in her lap.
She looked at Maverick sleeping peacefully beside her…
and felt something break quietly inside her chest.
Blair carefully handed Maverick to the nanny next door,brushing a stray curl from his forehead.
“Take good care of him, please,” she whispered, voice soft. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Mommy will be back soon, okay?”
Maverick yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Promise, Mommy?”
“Promise, baby,” she replied, forcing a small smile as the nanny took him into the next room.
Blair stepped back and checked her phone, her stomach tightening the moment she saw the missed call.
One of the cafe staff had called again, a sharp, annoyed tone cutting through the line.
“Miss Rivers! Do you even know it was your shift today? Mr. Brooks’s engagement coffee… it’s not waiting for anyone!”
Blair bit her lip, her fingers tightening around the phone. She took a deep breath. “Yes… I know. I’ll be there.”
She glanced once at the nanny who gave her a small, encouraging nod. “I’ll be back,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else, before slipping out into the evening air, her heart pounding.
Blair stepped into the grand hall, tray in hand, heart racing.
In her rush to reach the serving area, she didn’t notice a sharply dressed woman walking the opposite way. Their shoulders collided, and Blair stumbled slightly, clutching the tray tighter.
The woman shot her a sharp, annoyed look. “Watch your way, coffee girl!” she snapped, glaring down at Blair as if it were her fault the world existed.
Blair’s cheeks flamed. “I-I’m so sorry,” she stammered, trying to steady the tray. Her hands shook, but somehow she managed not to drop anything.
The woman huffed and stepped aside, muttering under her breath, leaving Blair trembling a little as she moved forward.
Before Blair could regain her composure, a sharp voice cut through the music and chatter.
“Miss Rivers!” one of the head staff, a tall woman with perfectly coiled hair and an intimidating stare, approached briskly.
“Behave yourself! This event is full of the richest people from around the world. You can’t just stumble around like… like you own the place.”
Blair’s heart sank. She lowered her gaze, cheeks burning. “Y-Yes, ma’am,” she whispered, clutching the tray so tightly her knuckles whitened.
The woman leaned in slightly, her voice softer but still firm. “I know you’re new, but one wrong move here and you’ll make a bad impression. Keep it together, understand?”
Blair nodded quickly.
Blair’s arms ached, her back protested, but she couldn’t stop.
Orders kept coming, one after another, a constant stream of cups, steam, and the rich aroma of coffee filling her senses. She counted silently as she worked—eighty… eighty-five… ninety…
By the time she had served the hundredth cup, her hands shook slightly.
Blair didn’t realize it at first. She was too busy balancing a tray, too busy forcing her tired legs to keep moving. But then a familiar voice flowed through the speakers that was impossible to ignore.
Every whisper in the hall stilled. Every camera turned toward the stage. All eyes were drawn to him.
Except Blair’s—hers lifted slowly, almost against her will.
Lucas stood beneath the soft lights, holding a microphone, dressed in a midnight-black suit that made him look like a dream carved out of shadows.
Then he spoke.
“From the first time our eyes met,” he began, “I knew you were the one.”
The tray nearly slipped from Blair’s hands.
Her breath caught.
Because immediately—without warning—her mind dragged her into the past.
That first moment.
She remembered standing half-dazed in the suite back then, turning around and seeing him leaning on the bed.
His face tired, his hair messed from lack of sleep. His eyes—those sleepy, soft brown eyes—locked with hers.
She froze.
He blinked slowly.
And it felt like the world tilted.
Back in the present, Lucas continued, voice thick with sincerity.
“Your hands… they were so warm against mine.”
Blair’s throat tightened as another memory washed over her.
That night.
His fingers brushing hers when she passed him a cup.
The gentle way he traced her knuckles, like he was memorizing them.
The slow, hesitant touches and hickeys.
She swallowed hard.
Lucas’s voice deepened. “And how you took care of me…”
Her pulse skipped.
She remembered holding him.
His head resting against her cleavages.
Her arms wrapped around him when he could barely stand.
The way he had exhaled shakily into her neck, trusting her, needing her.
How she had stroked his hair as if he was something fragile she could keep safe.
Blair’s vision blurred for a second.
She blinked.
Then he breathed the next sentence, steady and sure:
“I want you to be the mother of my unborn children.”
Blair’s heart stopped.
A jolt of pain shot through her chest as a final memory rose, uninvited and unforgiving:
Maverick.
Their son.
Sleeping peacefully in her arms earlier.
His tiny fingers curled around hers.
His smile that looked so much like Lucas’s.
Her lips parted, a silent gasp escaping.