Chapter 101 Chapter 101
Chapter 101
Ethan stood in front of the mirror longer than he usually allowed himself to. A brown T-shirt clung easily to his frame, soft and simple, nothing like the stiff suits he lived in. Beige trousers sat low on his waist, relaxed, almost unfamiliar.
He barely recognized the man staring back at him. It had been years since he dressed like this. Years since he cared enough to look without armor.
He ran a hand through his hair, adjusting it once, then again, until he finally stopped himself. It didn’t need perfection. That was the point. Still, he wanted to look good. Not for the city. Not for the board. For her.
Sam wasn’t around. The penthouse felt quieter without his teasing voice and sharp observations. Ethan was grateful for that today. He needed the calm. He grabbed his keys, slid into his shoes, and walked out.
The Lamborghini purred as he pulled onto the road. He knew how he looked. He didn’t need validation, but a small part of him felt lighter, freer, like he had stepped out of a version of himself that never breathed. He drove toward the café he had chosen days ago, pretending it was casual, pretending it meant nothing.
The café sat tucked between glass buildings and trees, warm and open. When he parked, his eyes found her instantly.
Celine stood near the entrance, hands clasped in front of her, face tilted up toward the sky as if she was enjoying the breeze. She wore brown too. A soft shade that hugged her gently, moving with her. The coincidence made his chest jump. She looked comfortable. Beautiful without effort.
She hadn’t noticed him yet.
He stepped closer and tapped her shoulder lightly.
She turned.
For a second, she forgot how to breathe. Ethan didn’t look like her boss today. No suits. No authority stitched into his clothes. Just a man. A very handsome one. Her eyes moved over him before she could stop herself.
“Hi,” he said, voice low, shy, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Hey,” she replied, almost laughing at herself.
They stood there, unsure who should move first.
He gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”
She nodded, following him inside.
The place was quiet. Too quiet. She noticed immediately.
“Is it… empty?” she asked.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have booked it.”
Her eyes widened. “You rented the whole place?”
“Just for a few hours,” he said quickly. “I didn’t want distractions.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she smiled instead.
They took their seats near the window. He pulled her chair out without thinking, then froze as if realizing what he’d done. She thanked him softly and sat.
A waitress approached, glancing between them, curious but professional.
“What can I get you?” she asked.
Celine cleared her throat. “Black coffee. One sugar.”
The waitress nodded and turned to Ethan.
“Anything fancy,” he said, waving a hand lightly.
The waitress smiled and walked away.
Silence settled, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just new.
“So,” he started, then stopped.
She waited.
“I’m glad you came,” he said finally.
“I am too,” she admitted.
He nodded, eyes dropping to the table, then lifting again as if checking her reaction. She noticed how careful he was. How he chose his words like they mattered.
“You look nice,” he said.
Her cheeks warmed. “You do too.”
He laughed quietly. “I don’t think I’ve heard that outside a boardroom in a long time.”
“That’s a shame,” she said. “You should dress like this more.”
“Maybe I will,” he replied, then quickly added, “If you think it suits me.”
She met his eyes. “It does.”
The coffee arrived. Steam curled upward as if filling the space between them.
They talked about small things at first. The weather. The city. The café. Then about work, but gently, without titles. He told her about how he hated suits when he was younger. She told him about Ariana and her endless advice. He listened closely, leaning forward, elbows on the table, fully present.
At one point, she laughed. A real laugh. The kind that caught her off guard. He watched her, stunned by how easily it came, by how much he wanted to hear it again.
“You okay?” she asked, noticing his stare.
“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Just… you’re easy to talk to.”
She smiled. “So are you.”
Inside the café, the waitress returned once more, pretending to tidy a nearby table just to steal another look. Ethan noticed and almost smiled. He wasn’t used to being seen like this, relaxed, human. Celine noticed too and ducked her head, hiding her grin behind her cup.
“You don’t come out like this often,” she said.
“No,” he admitted. “I didn’t even know how to ask you.”
She raised a brow. “You called.”
He chuckled. “I rehearsed it.”
She laughed again. “You?”
“Yes,” he said, mock serious. “I even considered hanging up.”
“I would’ve called back,” she said softly.
That surprised him. He looked at her for a long moment before nodding.
They spoke about music next. He confessed he liked old songs he never told anyone about. She told him she danced when she cleaned. He imagined it without trying to, then stopped himself.
When he paid, she protested.
“I invited you,” he said simply.
She let it go, thanking him again.
Outside, he walked closer to her, not touching, just enough to feel her presence. When she slipped earlier, his heart had jumped harder than he cared to admit. Even now, the memory stayed with him.
In the car, he adjusted the music low.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
They drove past familiar streets that somehow felt new. At a red light, he glanced at her, then looked away quickly when she caught him.
“Sorry,” he said.
She smiled. “You don’t have to apologize for looking.”
That made his ears warm.
When they reached her place, he stopped the car but didn’t get out.
She turned to him. “Thank you for today.”
He nodded. “Anytime.”
They looked at each other, something unspoken passing between them.
She opened the door, paused, then looked
back. “Good night, Ethan.”
“Good night, Celine.”
She stepped out, walking toward the building without looking back.
He stayed there for a moment longer, watching her disappear, then drove away, a small smile lingering on his face.