Chapter 205
Aria's POV
By six o'clock, I'd chosen a cream silk blouse and charcoal pencil skirt that projected both confidence and sophistication. The Chelsea gallery was housed in a renovated industrial space, with soaring ceilings and lighting that transformed the modern art pieces into ethereal creations.
Calvin spotted me immediately, his tall frame weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. "Ms. Harper," he greeted, his handshake firm. "I'm pleased you could join us."
"Your collection is extraordinary," I said, gesturing toward a large abstract canvas dominating the north wall. "Is that a Renwick original?"
Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, that I recognized the artist. "Indeed it is. You have an excellent eye."
Over the next hour, Calvin introduced me to several business executives whose interest in Harper Group extended beyond polite conversation. I fielded their questions about digital marketing strategies and emerging social media trends with confidence, noting the approving glances Calvin sent my way.
"You've impressed everyone tonight," he said later, as the crowd began to thin. "A far cry from our first meeting when I questioned your competence."
I smiled, accepting the compliment with a slight nod. "First impressions aren't always accurate."
"Indeed." He checked his watch. "The event's winding down, but I've reserved space at Obsidian Lounge nearby. A few of my contacts wanted to continue our discussion in a more relaxed setting."
I hesitated briefly, calculating the professional advantages against my growing exhaustion. Just then, my phone vibrated in my clutch. Devon's name flashed across the screen.
My pulse immediately quickened, fingers fumbling as I opened the message. Just seeing his name made my stomach tighten in a way I wasn't ready to acknowledge.
"You already left my apartment?" his message read.
I read it three times, trying to decipher his tone. Was he concerned? Annoyed? The ambiguity made my hands tremble slightly. I hadn't expected him to check on me, especially after his silence all day regarding those photos circulating online. An uncomfortable warmth spread through my chest as I typed: "Yes, thank you for your help and hospitality."
The moment I sent it, I regretted the formality of my words. Almost immediately, my phone rang—Devon calling. I stared at the screen, my throat suddenly dry, heart hammering against my ribs.
"Problem?" Calvin asked, his gaze curious.
"No," I said quickly, silencing the call. "Just work."
The phone rang again. My hand tightened around it as anxiety coursed through me. With an apologetic smile to Calvin, I answered.
"Where are you now?" Devon's voice was calm but carried an unmistakable note of authority that sent shivers down my spine.
"I'm—" I hesitated, my eyes flicking to Calvin who was now speaking with a gallery assistant. The truth felt complicated, entangling. I swallowed hard, my free hand gripping the edge of my skirt. "I'm back at my Brooklyn apartment. Resting my ankle, as recommended."
The lie tasted bitter on my tongue. Silence stretched between us, making my breath shallow and uneven.
"I see," Devon finally replied, his tone dropping several degrees colder. "Rest is good for your ankle. Goodnight, Aria." The call disconnected abruptly.
I stared at my phone, guilt and defiance warring within me. My cheeks felt hot, and I realized I was breathing too quickly. Why did I lie? Devon had no claim on my time—our arrangement was strictly business. Yet the coldness in his voice left a hollow feeling in my chest that I couldn't explain away.
"Shall we?" Calvin asked, returning to my side and gesturing toward the exit.
The Obsidian Lounge lived up to its name—sleek black surfaces and ambient lighting created an atmosphere of exclusive intimacy. Calvin led me to a secluded VIP section, ordering a whiskey for himself and asking my preference.
"The same," I said, needing something stronger than my usual wine.
As we discussed potential collaborations between Reed Company and Harper Group, I found my attention wandering. Devon's call replayed in my mind, his final "Goodnight, Aria" echoing uncomfortably. I kept glancing at my phone, half-expecting another message, my skin prickling with unease.
"You seem preoccupied," Calvin observed, sliding closer on the leather banquette. "Business troubles?"
I shook my head, forcing a smile that felt stiff on my face. "Just processing everything. It's been quite a day."
"Success can be overwhelming," he agreed, his hand coming to rest lightly on my wrist. "I've been looking for a companion who understands ambition but remembers compassion."
His fingers traced a pattern on my skin, his gaze direct and suggestive. The touch was unexpected, making me instinctively stiffen.
An assistant approached, whispering something in Calvin's ear.
"It seems we're alone," Calvin smiled. "The others have departed."
I raised my glass, attempting to redirect the conversation. "To potential partnerships."
"To partnerships," he echoed, eyes never leaving mine.
As I brought the glass to my lips, movement at the VIP area's entrance caught my attention. My hand froze mid-air.
Devon Kane stood motionless, his tall frame outlined against the lounge's ambient lighting. He wore an all-black suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and the hard lines of his face. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto mine with an intensity that made my stomach drop.
The whiskey glass slipped from my suddenly numb fingers, splashing dark amber liquid across my cream blouse. I gasped, more from the sight of Devon than the stain spreading across my chest. My heart pounded so loudly I was certain everyone could hear it.
Devon's jaw tightened visibly, a muscle working beneath his skin as he approached with measured steps. His eyes never left mine, and I felt exposed, as though he could see every thought passing through my mind. A dangerous smile played at the corners of his mouth, not reaching his eyes. "Apartment rest looks different these days," he remarked, his voice deceptively soft.
I opened my mouth to explain, but no words came out. My hands trembled as I reached for a napkin to blot the spilled whiskey, desperate for something to do that might hide my reaction to his presence.
Calvin glanced between us, confusion evident. "Mr. Kane, I wasn't aware you'd be joining us."
Devon's gaze never left my face, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Apparently, there are many things we weren't aware of tonight."