Chapter 2
704words
As I poured wine for her, she "accidentally" bumped my arm, sending crimson liquid cascading down her pristine white dress.
She gasped dramatically. Julian's brows instantly knitted together as he shot me a venomous look:
"Your company's standards must be in the gutter if they're hiring clumsy help like this."
Refusing to take the fall, I explained, "Miss Reed bumped into me."
Isabelle's face crumpled into a wounded expression. "Clara, I wasn't going to make a scene. But really, making mistakes and then blaming others? That's just low."
Julian half-rose from his chair. "If your company shows this little professionalism, perhaps we should reconsider this multi-million dollar partnership."
My boss, a female executive who'd always valued my work, leaned in anxiously and whispered:
"Clara, apologize to Mr. Vance and Miss Reed. Now."
"This deal could make or break us. We can't screw this up!"
Julian was obviously using this to torment me. Not wanting to drag my team down with me, I swallowed my pride:
"Miss Reed, I apologize. I should have been more careful. Please don't hold this against me."
Julian's eyes glinted with malice. "Words are cheap. Anyone can say 'sorry.'"
Instead of making me drink as punishment as I'd expected, he nodded toward my laptop sitting nearby, his gaze cutting through me like ice:
"Your team's Q3 market growth forecast has a critical flaw. Fix it. Right here, right now. If you can't, it proves both your apology and your professional abilities are worthless."
The air in the private dining room turned to ice.
Everyone—my boss included—gaped at Julian. This wasn't just being difficult anymore; this was straight-up public humiliation.
My boss attempted damage control: "Mr. Vance, this model is incredibly complex. Perhaps a formal meeting would be more appropriate—"
She reached for my laptop but froze under Julian's withering stare.
Julian's lips curved into something resembling a smile, but his eyes remained glacial. "Are you questioning my judgment… or her competence?"
Everyone could feel Julian's rage simmering beneath the surface.
My colleagues exchanged nervous glances, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Clearly, Julian wouldn't back down until I'd been thoroughly humiliated.
Not wanting to make things worse for my team, I unclenched my white-knuckled fists. "I'll do it."
In that high-end restaurant, surrounded by untouched gourmet dishes and the pitying or secretly gleeful stares of everyone present, I opened my laptop.
The click-clack of my keyboard echoed in the deathly silence. I forced myself into a bubble, drowning in numbers and formulas, blocking out the world around me.
My stomach twisted into knots of anxiety and shame.
Thirty excruciating minutes later, I turned my screen around and explained my corrections in a voice I fought to keep steady.
I met his gaze, my smile brittle. "Satisfied, Mr. Vance?"
Julian's expression remained frigid. "I'm not the one you offended."
I got the message and turned to Isabelle. "Miss Reed, does this satisfy your need for an apology?"
Isabelle's eyes gleamed with triumph, her message crystal clear—
See? Between you and me, Julian will always choose me.
She was wasting her energy. I wasn't even in the competition anymore.
Four years ago, I'd finally accepted that she was Julian's true prize.
And I was nothing but dead weight he was desperate to shed, tied to him only by a business arrangement.
I'd made peace with that reality long ago.
And I'd stopped loving Julian even longer ago.
Having had her fill of my humiliation, Isabelle finally smiled sweetly. "Your business skills aren't completely terrible."
And just like that, the matter was closed.
Back in my seat, the pain in my stomach intensified. Thank God I'd brought medication. I swallowed a couple pills with hot water, waiting for the relief to kick in.
From my peripheral vision, I caught Julian watching me, his dark eyes unreadable, swimming with emotions I couldn't—and didn't want to—decipher.
Once upon a time, I would have obsessed over what was going through his mind.
Now, I simply looked away, completely indifferent.
His thoughts, his feelings—none of it mattered to me anymore.
