WHEN HE FINALLY KNEW.

Elena A Week and a Few Days Later It had been nine days since the pitch at Harper Corp. Not that I was counting. But I can't help it. In the time since, there had been no emails, no phone calls, not even a polite rejection from Dylan Harper's people. Nothing. I told myself silence was normal. These things took time. Big companies didn't operate on the same rhythm as small ones like mine. And still, every time my phone buzzed, my stomach twisted like it was being wrung out. But life had its own rhythm, and I didn't have the luxury of waiting. The office-if you could call the modest two-room suite above a bookstore in Midtown an office-was finally functional. Faye had her desk set up, and I had my little corner with a good lamp and a coffee machine that only sometimes made alarming noises. It was something. It was ours. That morning, Elvis had been particularly clingy during drop-off. "Do you have to go to work today?" he asked, his big brown eyes shining. "Just for a little," I'd promised, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "We'll read two bedtime stories tonight, okay?" "Three," he'd countered, already smiling. "Deal." Now, hours later, I sat behind my laptop, the glow from the screen making my eyes ache. My inbox was a mix of lukewarm leads and auto-responses. Faye peeked in from the other room, holding up her phone. "I'm ordering food. You want anything?" I glanced at the time. "Actually... I think I'll take a walk. I need air." She nodded. "You okay?" "Yeah. Just restless." I threw on my coat and grabbed my bag. Outside, the city felt different. The wind had softened, the sky a low hum of clouds, and the streets not too loud. I headed down the block, unsure of where I was going until I found myself near that café-neutral, quiet, and familiar. I stepped inside, ordered an oat milk latte, and waited near the window. The bell above the door jingled. I turned instinctively-and froze. Dylan Harper. Of all the cafés in Midtown. He didn't see me at first. He was in a dark coat, sharp as ever, though his tie was slightly loosened. He stepped to the counter, ordered something black and merciless, then finally turned. His gaze caught mine. For a moment, it was just that-eye contact. Then a nod. Then something softer. "Ms. Reyes," he said as he approached. "Mr. Harper," I replied, lifting my cup slightly. "Didn't expect to see you here." "I could say the same." He gestured to the seat across from me. "Mind if I...?" I shook my head. "Please." He sat, set his cup down, then looked at me-not just at me, but into me. It was that same analytical gaze he'd worn during the pitch, like he was trying to solve a riddle no one else saw. "How's business?" he asked. "Good," I lied. "Busy." He gave a small smile. "Let me guess. You're still waiting to hear from us." I blinked. "Something like that." "I've been meaning to follow up. The board's reviewing everything. It's not a no." "That's comforting. I think." Silence stretched between us, but it wasn't awkward. Just thoughtful. There was a stillness about Dylan, like he was always three steps ahead of whatever he was saying out loud. "And your son?" he asked casually. The question caught me. I sipped my drink to buy a second. "He's doing well. Adjusting." He nodded. "New York's a lot for a kid." "He's tougher than he looks." "I'm sure he is." His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it quickly, frowning slightly before setting it face down. "I shouldn't keep you," I said. "I'm in no rush." Another pause. Then: "You strike me as someone who's used to managing things on her own," he said. I shrugged. "I guess I've had practice." "I meant that as a compliment." "I'll take it that way, then." His eyes didn't leave mine. "I find it... refreshing." That pulled a smile from me, small but real. "You don't meet a lot of people who say what they mean, do you?" "Not in my circles." A beat passed. Then he stood. "I should get back. But I'll be in touch." I stood too. "Thanks for the coffee chat." "Anytime." He left with a quiet nod. I stood there a while longer, sipping the last of my latte, unsure of what that conversation had meant-but knowing it would stay with me longer than I wanted to admit. Back at the office, Faye looked up from her desk. "You spent twenty seven minutes Seems like you had a meeting with a man" "What do you mean Faye?" I asked with a slight chuckle. "You ran into him, didn't you?" I raised an eyebrow. "How do you...?" "You've got your 'I just saw a ghost in Armani' face." I laughed. "It wasn't that dramatic." She grinned. "So? Did he say anything?" "We talked. Nothing official." She tilted her head. "But something... unofficial?" I didn't answer. Not directly. Before she could press further, my phone buzzed. An unfamiliar number. I answered. "Elena Reyes?" a crisp voice asked. "Yes, speaking." "This is Julian Ward. I'm the founder of Indigo & West. I was hoping we could schedule a meeting to discuss a potential collaboration." Indigo & West. A rising agency. Not quite Harper Corp, but well-known. "Oh. I wasn't expecting this," I said honestly. "I got your name from a mutual connection who said you were the one to watch." "Is that so?" "I'd love to talk through some campaign possibilities. My schedule's flexible this week. Let me know what works for you." I scribbled down the details, exchanged polite goodbyes, and hung up. Faye raised an eyebrow. "Business call?" I nodded slowly. "Julian Ward. He wants to meet." Her eyes widened. "That's huge." "I know, right?" I sat down at my desk, heart thudding just slightly faster. Something was shifting. Something I hadn't planned for. And deep down, I couldn't help but wonder if Dylan Harper's silence wasn't the only thing about to change.