Chapter 2 2

Emily watched Lucas's retreating figure as he cut through the crowd, an undeniable air of confidence in every step he took. Something about him lingered-a combination of his charm, his sharp wit, and the unexpected sincerity buried beneath his sarcasm. She didn't know whether she was more intrigued or irritated.

"Who was that?" Melanie's voice broke through her thoughts.

Emily turned to see her friend, impeccably dressed in a sleek black gown, raising a perfectly plucked brow.

"Just someone making conversation," Emily said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Melanie smirked. "Someone? Emily, that's Lucas Sterling. As in Sterling Enterprises. As in the owner of half the luxury hotels in the city."

Emily blinked. "That was him?"

"Yes, and he was clearly interested in you." Melanie's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and encouragement. "Do you have any idea how many women here would kill to have five seconds of his attention?"

Emily shrugged, trying to play it off. "He was just being polite."

Melanie scoffed. "That man doesn't do polite. He does calculated, and he clearly calculated that you were worth talking to."

Emily rolled her eyes but couldn't help the flicker of heat in her cheeks. "Well, he can keep calculating. I'm not interested in billionaires who make a sport out of charming people."

Melanie sighed dramatically. "You're impossible, you know that? A man like him could write a check that funds your entire program for years."

"Exactly why I'm avoiding him," Emily shot back. "I don't need his charity, and I'm not about to become some pet project for a man who thinks money solves everything."

Melanie opened her mouth to argue, but Emily cut her off. "Let's just focus on why we're here, okay? There are other potential donors in this room who don't come with... complications."

Melanie gave her a long, knowing look but eventually relented. "Fine. But don't be surprised if he comes looking for you again."

Across the room, Lucas nursed his bourbon, his gaze drifting back to Emily. She was talking to another man now-a stiff-looking older gentleman in a tuxedo-and Lucas felt a strange pang in his chest. Jealousy? No, that couldn't be it. He barely knew her.

"She's something, isn't she?"

Lucas glanced sideways to find Nathan back at his side, grinning like he'd just uncovered a secret.

"What are you talking about?" Lucas asked, feigning indifference.

"Emily Harper," Nathan said, motioning toward her with his glass. "You haven't taken your eyes off her since you talked to her."

Lucas scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."

Nathan chuckled. "You're a terrible liar, my friend. It's written all over your face."

"She's different," Lucas admitted after a moment, surprising even himself with the confession.

"Different how?" Nathan asked, genuinely curious.

"She's not like the rest of them," Lucas said, gesturing vaguely toward the room full of glittering socialites and power players. "She's... real. No pretense, no agenda."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "And that bothers you?"

"No," Lucas said quickly, then sighed. "Maybe. I don't know. She's refreshing, but it's also... unsettling."

Nathan smirked. "Unsettling? I think you like her."

Lucas shot him a glare. "Don't start."

"I'm just saying," Nathan said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "You've spent years perfecting the art of keeping people at arm's length. Maybe she's exactly the kind of challenge you need."

Lucas didn't respond, but his jaw tightened. He hated how right Nathan might be.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of polite small talk and forced smiles for Emily. She managed to exchange contact information with a few potential donors, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Lucas.

By the time she slipped out of the ballroom and into the cool night air, she was exhausted-mentally and emotionally. The city stretched out before her, the skyline glittering like a thousand tiny stars.

"Leaving so soon?"

The voice stopped her in her tracks. She turned to find Lucas leaning casually against the building's grand entrance, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

"It's late," she said simply.

He nodded, stepping closer. "I thought you'd still be inside, charming the crowd."

She gave a small laugh. "Charming isn't exactly my strong suit."

"Could've fooled me," he said, his tone softer than before.

Emily crossed her arms, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze. "What do you want, Mr. Sterling?"

"Lucas," he corrected. "And I was curious if you always leave these events looking like you'd rather be anywhere else."

Her lips twitched into a faint smile. "Maybe. Why do you care?"

He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. "Because you're not like the others. And I can't decide if that's a good thing or a terrible thing."

Emily tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Why would it be terrible?"

"Because," he said, his voice low, "you make me question things I've never questioned before. And I'm not sure I like it."

For a moment, they just stood there, the night air thick with unspoken tension.

"Maybe you should stop trying to figure me out," Emily said finally.

"Maybe," Lucas agreed, though the look in his eyes said he had no intention of doing so.

Without another word, he stepped aside, letting her pass. But as she walked away, she couldn't shake the feeling that this wouldn't be the last time their paths crossed.