Chapter 2 - The Rival Who Truly Saw Her
Three weeks later, Claire walked into the Halston Foundation dinner wearing a dark green dress Adrian had once told her was too revealing.
For the first time in years, she had dressed without wondering whether he would approve.
It felt strangely intimate.
Almost indecent.
She entered alone.
The ballroom glittered beneath chandeliers. Glasses chimed. Men in dark suits exchanged carefully casual remarks about acquisitions and property prices while women in silk dresses kissed each other’s cheeks and quietly assessed everything.
Claire almost turned around.
Then a voice behind her said, “If you’re planning an escape, the service corridor behind the orchestra is your best option.”
She turned.
Nathan Mercer.
Adrian’s greatest rival.
If Adrian’s name made people think of discipline, expansion, and ruthless efficiency, Nathan Mercer’s made them think of risk.
He was taller than Adrian, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, with brown eyes that seemed warm until someone tried to lie to him.
Claire had met him perhaps six times.
Adrian had complained about him hundreds.
Nathan had outbid Adrian on two properties, hired away one executive, and once publicly rejected a partnership Adrian badly wanted.
Adrian hated losing.
Nathan was living proof that he sometimes did.
“I’m not escaping,” Claire said.
Nathan glanced toward the entrance.
“Then you’re standing suspiciously close to the door.”
She laughed.
It escaped before she could stop it.
Nathan smiled.
“There. Better.”
“What?”
“You looked like someone had sentenced you to attend this thing. Now you look merely disappointed by it.”
“You’re very observant.”
“I have expensive lawyers. Observation is cheaper.”
She laughed again.
The strange thing was that he never asked about Adrian.
Not once.
He noticed the missing ring—she saw his gaze drop to her hand—but said nothing.
They talked about terrible canapés. About a painting in the lobby neither of them understood. About Claire’s work restoring historic houses.
He remembered that.
Adrian often introduced her as “Claire, she does interiors.”
Nathan said, “The old Whitmore place on Mason Street was yours, wasn’t it?”
She blinked.
“You know that project?”
“I toured it after completion.”
“Why?”
“Because it was good.”
The simplicity of the answer unsettled her.
Not because it was flirtatious.
Because it was sincere.
For years, Claire had become accustomed to receiving attention only after requesting it.
Nathan’s arrived naturally.
An hour later the orchestra began a slow jazz arrangement.
Nathan held out his hand.
“Dance?”
She hesitated.
“I’m warning you, I’m rusty.”
“I own steel-toed shoes.”
She put her hand in his.
His palm settled carefully at her waist.
He did not pull her against him.
He waited until she moved closer.
The distinction was tiny.
Claire felt it everywhere.
“You always this cautious?” she asked.
“With important things.”
“And how do you know I’m important?”
Nathan’s eyes held hers.
“I didn’t say you were.”
She almost smiled.
Then he added quietly, “But I was thinking it.”
Her heartbeat betrayed her.
The song slowed.
He leaned nearer.
Claire could feel his breath.
For one suspended second, she knew he wanted to kiss her.
She also knew he wouldn’t unless she moved first.
She stepped back.
“I can’t.”
Nathan released her immediately.
“Okay.”
No disappointment sharpened his voice.
No punishment entered his face.
Claire looked at him suspiciously.
“That’s it?”
“What else should there be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Claire.”
His expression softened.
“You said you can’t.”
She looked away.
Nathan lowered his voice.
“Someone teach you that saying no requires an apology?”
Her throat tightened.
She hated him for noticing.
She liked him for noticing.
That frightened her even more.
Across the city, Adrian sat in his office working until midnight.
He did not know Claire had danced with Nathan Mercer.
Had he known, he might have called her.
May you like
Had he known she had nearly kissed him, he might have gone to her apartment.
But Adrian still believed time belonged to him.
