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    Olivia

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    I took my coffee from the barista with a grateful smile, the scent of freshly ground beans wrapping around me like aforting nket. After the long day at work, I needed this little escape.

    I found a quiet corner table by the window at Crescent Moon Café, sinking into the plush armchair with a contented sigh. The café buzzed with the gentle hum of evening conversations,ptops clicking, and the asional hiss of the espresso machine. Perfect white noise to dpress.

    Taking a sip of mytte, I closed my eyes briefly, letting the warmth and caffeine work their magic. The café was my secret sanctuary when I needed to clear my head before going home. Something about the ambient music, soft lighting, and theforting aroma of coffee grounded me after chaotic days.

    My phone buzzed on the table. Alexander’s name lit up the screen.

    “Hey,” I answered, keeping my voice low.

    “Where are you?” Alexander asked, his deep voice carrying a hint of curiosity. “I just stopped by your office, but you’ve already left.”

    “Sorry, I needed some air after the Thompson meeting. Came to Crescent Moon for coffee,” I exined, absently tracing the rim of my mug. “Just taking a moment to dpress before heading back.”

    “The café on Wilshire? Funny, I’ve never seen you there before.”

    Iughed softly. “It’s my little hideaway when work gets overwhelming. The Thompson project is taking over my brain.”

    “Understandable,” Alexander’s voice softened. “No rush to get back. Enjoy your coffee break.”

    “Thanks. Did you need something from my office?”

    “Nothing urgent. Just wanted to check in about this weekend.”

    I perked up. “Oh? What about the weekend?”

    “I’ve got ns for us,” he replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Something special.”

    “Are you going to tell me what these ns are?” I asked, curiosity piqued.

    “Now, where would be the fun in that?” Alexander chuckled. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

    “You know I hate surprises,” I protested half–heartedly.

    “You’ll like this one. Trust me.”

    “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

    “I will. Enjoy your coffee. See you at home.”

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    The call ended before I could press him further. Typical Alexander, always maintaining an air of mystery when it suited him.

    I stared at my phone for a moment, trying to guess what he might have nned. Knowing him, it could be anything from a spontaneous trip to a business dinner with potential clients.

    I took another sip of mytte, savoring the rich vor. Whatever Alexander had nned, I’d find out soon enough. His need to keep me in suspense was almost endearing, in an annoying sort of way.

    The café had filled up since I’d arrived. Every table was now upied with students, professionals tapping away atptops, and couples engaged in intimate conversations. I checked my watch, deciding to finish my coffee and head back to the office to gather my things before going home.

    “Is this seat taken?”

    I looked up, expecting to find some guy trying his luck with a pickup line. Instead, I found myself staring into the familiar face of James Westbrook. He stood beside my table, gesturing to the empty chair across from me, his expression pleasantly neutral.

    My eyes darted around the café, noting that every other table was indeed full. Refusing him would be petty, especially when he was being perfectly civil.

    “You may sit,” I said, gesturing to the chair.

    “Thank you,” James replied, setting his briefcase beside the chair before sitting down. He was impably dressed as always, not a wrinkle in his tailored suit despite thete hour. “I hope I’m not intruding on your solitude.”

    “It’s fine,” I said, taking another sip of my coffee. “The café’s busy tonight.”

    “May I get you another?” he offered, nodding toward my nearly empty mug.

    “No thanks. I was about to leave, actually.”

    “Ah.” He nodded, seeming genuinely disappointed. “Well, don’t let me rush you.”

    James signaled the barista, who nodded in recognition. Apparently, he was a regr here too.

    “So,” he said, turning his attention back to me, “how are things at Carter Enterprises? I heard you’ve been promoted to Senior Marketing Strategist. Congrattions.”

    I studied him, trying to determine if there was any hidden meaning behind his words. “Thank you. It’s been challenging but rewarding.”

    “I’m sure. Alexander doesn’t promote people without good reason.” His coffee arrived promptly, and he thanked the barista before continuing. “You must be quite talented.”

    “I work hard,” I replied simply.

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    “And modest too.” James smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. “A refreshing quality in our industry.”

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    I shifted in my seat, ufortable with his scrutiny. “Well, modesty and talent aren’t mutually exclusive.”

    James nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “True. That’s why I was interested to hear you’re handling the Thompson Hotels ount.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Andrew Thompson doesn’t trust his brand with just anyone.”

    “You follow Carter Enterprises‘ client assignments that closely?” I raised an eyebrow.

    “I make it my business to know what’s happening in the LA business scene.” He leaned back slightly. “Especially when it involves Alexander Carter’s wife taking on one of the most prestigious hotel chains in the country.”

    “It’s just another marketing project.”

    James’s eyebrows shot up. “Just another project? The Thompson family has rejected three marketing firms before you. Andrew is notoriously protective of his family’s legacy.” He studied me with newfound interest. “Carter Enterprises wouldn’t hand that responsibility to someone who couldn’t deliver. I’m genuinely impressed.”

    Hispliment caught me off guard. There was no condescension in his tone, just what appeared to be genuine respect.

    “Thank you,” I said carefully. “But I still have to deliver results.”

    “I have no doubt you will.” James set his coffee cup down. “Andrew and I had lunch today, actually. He mentioned meeting a brilliant young marketing strategist who finally understood what makes Thompson hotels special.”

    I felt my cheeks warm slightly. “He said that?”

    “His exact words were ‘finally someone who gets it.” James smiled. “He’s not easily impressed, so you must have made quite an impact.”

    “I just listened to what he wanted instead of trying to force my ideas on him.”

    “That’s precisely why he likes you. The others tried to modernize without respecting tradition. Andrew values his family’s legacy above all else.”

    I nodded, remembering how animated Mr. Thompson had be when talking about the hotel’s history.

    “The Thompson legacy is impressive,” I admitted to James, setting my coffee cup down. “Mr. Thompson clearly values tradition while understanding the need for strategic evolution.”

    “That’s exactly what Andrew’s been trying tomunicate to marketing firms for years. No one’s seemed to grasp that bnce until you.”

    “Sometimes listening is more valuable than talking,” I replied with a small shrug. The café’s ambient music shifted to something jazzier,plementing the evening atmosphere.

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    “A rare quality in our industry,” James said, his eyes studying me with renewed interest. “Most executives bI /bknow prefer the sound of their own voice.”

    I couldn’t help butugh. “Including yourself?”

    “Especially myself,” he admitted with disarming honesty. “It’s an upational hazard of sess. People stop telling you when you’re wrong.”

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