Chapter 101 101
THE bell above the boutique door chimed, a soft note announcing the entry of another customer. Satin & Sage was bustling as usual, that afternoon, the faint scent of roses from the display corner mixing with polished wood and designer perfumes. Behind the counter, two sales representatives were busy attending to customers when a tall man in a navy-blue suit and dark sunglasses walked in, his aura too commanding to be ignored.
“Good afternoon, sir,” one of the reps beamed, her professional smile wide. “Welcome to Satin & Sage. How may I help you today?”
The man’s lips curved in a faint, knowing smirk. His voice was deep, familiar, deliberate.
“I would like to see your CEO.”
The rep blinked in surprise, then chuckled politely.
“Sir, I assure you I can help with anything you need. Our CEO is very busy at the moment.”
“I insist,” he said smoothly, removing his glasses. The weight in his eyes made her pause. “I only want the CEO. I want to make a huge purchase.”
The sales rep hesitated, then shrugged helplessly.
“Alright, sir. Please give me a moment.” She turned and walked briskly toward Amelia’s office.
Inside, Amelia was hunched over some invoices, her pen tapping rhythmically against the desk. The rep pushed the door slightly open, sticking her head in.
“Ma’am, there is a gentleman insisting on seeing you. Says he wants to make a huge sale. I tried, but he won’t let me handle it.”
Amelia sighed, exasperated.
“Seriously? Can’t anyone follow protocol around here? Fine.” She rose, straightened her blazer, and walked out.
The moment her eyes landed on him, her entire body stiffened. Adrian.
Her pulse hammered in her ears, anger rising like bile. He stood there casually, hands in his pockets, as though he belonged in her boutique, as though he hadn’t shattered her life once.
“What are you doing here?” Amelia snapped, her voice sharper than the clink of the glass door.
He tilted his head, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.
“Hello to you too, Amelia.”
“Don’t ‘Amelia’ me. You shouldn’t be here. You—”
“I came to buy some clothes,” he cut her off gently, his tone calm, almost teasing. “Why so defensive? You own a business, don’t you? Or do you chase customers away now?”
Her jaw tightened.
“You could have seen my sales reps. They are very capable.”
He stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers.
“Only you can take care of this, Amelia.” His words carried an edge of flirtation, deliberate, heavy.
Her chest rose sharply. She clenched her fists, fighting the smirk that threatened to betray her anger when he added in a mockingly casual voice, “Or is Ryan the only one allowed to give me that privilege?”
Amelia’s lips twitched against her will. She turned away quickly, hiding the spark of almost-laughter that threatened.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
They walked toward the racks, the tension between them thick as silk. Adrian moved slowly, brushing his fingers over expensive fabrics while Amelia stood stiffly beside him, cataloguing options with icy efficiency.
“I need your taste,” Adrian said quietly. “The lady I want to buy these clothes for has very high standards. Just like you.”
Amelia froze for a moment, her throat tightening. The lady? Hmph. Her heart pounded, but she masked it by straightening a hanger. She swallowed hard, forcing her tone flat.
“What kind of clothes? Casual? Office wear?”
“What do you think is best?” he asked, his gaze lingering on her face.
“Adrian, please. I don’t have all day. Just tell me what you want.”
“Office wear,” he said finally, his lips curving. “And something for galas. Occasions. She attends plenty of it.”
As Amelia selected piece after piece, sharp suits, tailored gowns, elegant shirts, Adrian trailed behind, watching her, stealing glances whenever she turned her head. Then he tried to break the silence.
“How are the twins?” His voice was soft, careful.
Amelia stiffened but didn’t look at him.
“That is none of your concern.”
“I’m their father—”
“You lost that right the moment you left me,” she cut in coldly.
He scoffed.
“I deserve to know—”
“You deserve to know nothing, Adrian,” she cut in rudely again, “you lost that right the moment you walked away. Remember?”
“I didn’t walk away from them, I—”
She frowned.
“Don’t twist this. You walked away from me, and by extension, from them too.”
Adrian sighed, his voice so low as he spoke.
“I never stopped thinking about you… about us. If you would just let me—”
Amelia cut in sharply.
“Enough, Adrian. We are not here to talk about the past. You came to buy clothes, let’s stick to that.”
His shoulders fell.
“Clothes are an excuse. I came to see you, Amelia. And them,” he spoke in the lowest voice she had ever heard of him, almost as if he was pleading.
“Then you have seen me. Transaction over. Let’s not waste time,” she replied carelessly.
Each attempt he made, she shut him down immediately, her walls unshaken. Finally, the selections were complete. Amelia packaged the purchases with quick, precise movements, her hands betraying no tremor though her insides were in turmoil. She sealed the last box, slid it across the counter toward him, and straightened.
“There,” she said crisply. “We are done.”
Adrian picked up the bag, studied her with an unreadable expression, and then, leaned forward slightly.
“For you,” he said simply.
Amelia froze. Her eyes flicked from his face to the bag in his hand, stunned.