Chapter 5 GOALS AND GLANCES

As I made my way to the office, I couldn't help but wonder if Alexander was like his father, always needing his daily cup of coffee. I decided to take the risk and entered his office empty handed.

"Good morning, Alexander," I said, closing the door behind me.

"Morning," he replied without looking up, eyes scanning documents on his laptop.

"My father mentioned something about an investor wanting to meet with me?"

"Yes, Mr. Lucian," I confirmed.

He frowned. "Why? He should've met me at the show on Saturday."

"He's one of our biggest investors, sir. I think he just wants the chance to speak with you one on one," I explained calmly.

Alexander exhaled, clearly frustrated. "I guess it's to be expected. Especially with the bigger investors... they want to be sure their money is in good hands."

"So, you're saying if he doesn't like me, he'll pull out," Alexander said, finally setting his laptop aside. He was starting to get worried.

"Which is why we need to make sure he does like you," I replied as he absentmindedly twirled his pen between his fingers.

"This shouldn't be too hard," I added, maybe a little too casually.

He raised an eyebrow, eyes locking on mine.

"I mean- because I'm sure you'll impress him," I corrected, internally, I was cursing at myself. "Plus, the meeting's at a bar nearby, so it's not anything super formal."

He leaned back slightly. "Alright then. What time are we going?"

"We?" I echoed.

"Don't make me do this alone, Veronica."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the alternative spending another dull night at home with Daphne was far less enticing. After a beat, I sighed in surrender.

"...Fine."

I gave the investor's office a call and locked in a time for the meeting.

I was Practically floating with excitement, I made my way down to Jillian's floor I was still giddy with joy for her.

"You said you'd call me," I announced as I burst into her office.

"I know, I'm sorry! I got caught up in our... celebration," she said, her cheeks tinged with a blush.

I pulled her into a warm hug.

"Did I mention how happy I am for you?"

"Really? Couldn't tell," she quipped with a smirk.

We sank into our seats, and I couldn't help gushing over the ring again.

"I'm really happy, Vee," she said softly. "This just feels... different from my first marriage. Completely different. It feels like a dream I never thought I'd get."

"I hope I feel that way someday," I admitted.

"You will. You deserve every bit of it and more," she said, cupping my cheek with a gentle hand.

"So, when's the big day?" I asked, raising a brow.

"I have no idea. I know nothing!" she groaned. "Part of me wants a beach wedding, the other part dreams of a massive cathedral with the longest train imaginable."

"Longer than Kim Kardashian's?" I teased.

"Obviously!" she shot back, and we both dissolved into laughter.

That evening, we sat at the bar, waiting for Mr. Lucian to arrive. Alexander adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time, even though it was already perfectly in place. He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table, clearly on edge.

I gently placed my hand over his. "There's no need to worry. You've got this," I said, my voice calm.

Our eyes met . I held his eyes for a beat too long. I was drawn to them but I knew I had to stop Professional boundaries were starting to blur in the soft bar light.

"Mr. Virelli, hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

Mr. Lucian's voice said, bringing us out of our little moment. I pulled my hand away instantly as Alexander rose to greet him.

"Not at all," he said, shaking the man's hand with a firm grip.

"I didn't expect you'd be joining us, Vivian."

"It's Veronica," I corrected, with a polite smile. "And he's still getting familiar with the area... thought I'd help him find the place."

Mr. Lucian took my hand and gave it a brief shake, his eyes already assessing.

"A suit? At a bar?" he raised a sceptical brow.

"We came straight from the office," I chimed in smoothly. "Didn't want to keep you waiting."

"He insisted," I added, shooting Alexander a quick sideways glance.

"You like to keep to time I appreciate that," Mr. Lucian said with a small smile as they settled into their seats.

He glanced around the bar with mild amusement. "Your father would've never agreed to meet me here for anything business-related. He preferred mineral water and a boardroom."

Alexander gave a tight smile, his foot still tapping quietly under the table. "Change isn't inherently bad," he offered.

Lucian studied him for a bit, then swirled the drink the waiter had just placed before him. "Do you know why I asked for this little meeting, Mr. Virelli?"

The question hung in the air, subtle but sharp like a test in disguise of pleasantry.

"To get to know me," Alexander replied.

"Yes," Mr. Lucian nodded. "Over time, your father became more than just a business associate he became a friend. We built a deep sense of trust, and I simply want to ensure that my investment remains in capable hands."

"I completely understand, sir," Alexander said. "And I realize that words alone won't earn your confidence. But I genuinely hope we can begin building that same foundation of trust."

Lucian gave an approving nod.

A stretch of silence followed, it was almost uncomfortable, until Lucian broke it. "Are you always this quiet?"

"Only when I feel like I'm being tested," Alexander muttered with a weary sigh, as if the weight of the meeting had suddenly settled on his shoulders.

"Wow, Liverpool's getting absolutely getting it handed to them" I said, eyeing the muted television mounted above the bar.

Both men followed my gaze to the screen.

"Veronica, do you follow sports?" Mr. Lucian asked, his tone curious.

"Maybe," I replied with a small shrug. It wasn't a total lie, I'd never voluntarily switch on a match, but I didn't mind it being on either.

"They're down two goals," Alexander chimed in, "as usual."

"You follow?" Mr. Lucian raised an eyebrow.

"It's my religion," Alexander said without missing a beat.

He took his first sip of whiskey, his shoulders noticeably more relaxed. Even the tapping foot had gone still. The sharp edge of tension that had gripped the table earlier now felt distant disarmed by football, of all things.

I slipped away as their football debate escalated into full-blown banter animated, passionate, and entirely unrelatable to me. With a quiet sigh, I perched on a barstool, cradling a glass of cola and occasionally casting a glance back toward their table.

That's when I noticed her a very beautiful woman with sleek dark hair and an agenda written all over her eyes. She was watching Alexander, bold and deliberate. He clocked it too, though he didn't so much as flinch. I was in awe of her, she oozed confidence even with the look she had.

I spent sometime at the table, nursing my drink, Just as I took the last sip, Mr. Lucian's voice rang out from across the room. "It's about time I head home. And Veronica, you can stop pretending you're not eavesdropping." His tone was playful.

I laughed, caught red-handed, and slid off my stool to re-join them cool as ever, but with a tiny grin tugging at the corner of my lips.

"You know," Lucian said as he slipped on his jacket, "I wasn't entirely sure about you at first."

"And now?" Alexander asked.

"I trust anyone who supports Liverpool," Lucian said with a grin.

Alexander burst into a deep, hearty laugh. "Veronica, brush up on your soccer, I want you in on the next debate."

"We'll see," I said with a teasing smile as we exchanged goodbyes and watched him head out.

"Told you," I said, holding up my hand. "High five."

"I'll admit," Alexander said, meeting my palm with his, "I didn't believe you."

"And now?" I echoed, mimicking his earlier tone.

"Now... I suppose I should trust anyone my father trusted."

His words caught me off guard in the best way, and before I could reply, he signalled the waiter. "Let's have a celebratory drink."

As the waiter approached, he looked over at me, clearly lighter, the stress of the evening finally fading.

"So," he asked, tilting his head. "How'd you know he was into football?"

"I noticed how often he kept glancing at the TV," I said with a shrug and a knowing smile, leaning back in my chair.

The bar was had soft, amber light as mellow music drifted through the air. At one table, a woman sat waiting, clearly growing restless. She checked her phone, glanced at the door, and just as she seemed ready to leave, a man hurried in, flowers in hand, apologies tumbling out.

She tried to hold her stern expression, but a smile cracked through, and soon they were wrapped in an embrace. Watching them, I couldn't help but smile too.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked.

"I love it... seeing people in love," I said with a soft shrug.

He scoffed faintly. "Well, they're lying to themselves, at least one person is."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that because you haven't experienced it?"

"No," he said, taking a slow sip of his drink. "Because when you go looking for it, it lets you down."

"You don't look for love," I countered gently. "It finds you."

He looked at me, amused. "Wow. You really believe that?"

"I do." I nodded.

He sighed, his tone suddenly distant. "You're only this hopeful because you haven't been burned by it."

I tilted my head. "I have. It still doesn't mean I should give up."

"You really think love is out there?"

"I do. And I want the whole cliché candles, serenades, handwritten notes the cheesiest version there is."

He smiled faintly and raised his glass. "Then I hope you find it."

"Me too," I replied, tapping my glass gently against his.

I was just about to say something more when the dark-haired woman from earlier walked past her eyes locked onto him again. His attention drifted toward her, and honestly... I couldn't blame him.

"It's getting late," I said as I stood.

"I'll walk you out," he offered, but I waved him off.

"It's fine," I replied, casting one last glance in the woman's direction. "Enjoy."

The night air was cool and calm, a welcome contrast to the haze of thoughts swirling in my head. Each step along the sidewalk seemed to help untangle a knot, but not all of them.

The truth was simple Alexander was my boss. That was the line. I needed my heart to know that, I couldn't afford another heartbreak.

yet, the image of him laughing, relaxed, and the way he didn't even glance twice at the woman clung to me like mist. And the twist in my chest, subtle as it was, didn't lie. Something was growing that had no business even existing in the first place.