'Gonna wear that dress you like, skin-tight

Do my hair up real, real nice.'

*ALTHEA'S POV*

October 9, 2023.

"Babe, I'm home!"

The call echoed throughout the apartment, like the shatter of glass that followed, and soon, it was footsteps rushing through the hallway until a familiar silhouette passed the bedroom door, my gaze finally settling to catch the coat and attache case still in his hand.

"Althea?"

"Yes, I'm here," I replied, as if he could have missed my tall figure perched on a stepladder in front of the closet. "It's nothing. You just scared me, and I dropped the..."

"Candles?" Jordon stopped two steps away from me, staring questioningly at what remained of these candles on the dark floor: shards of glass, an orange block of wax, and a label with the fine letters 'Summer fruits'.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, but it's why you gave me the keys, right?"

"Yes, of course, I just didn't expect you so soon."

"Soon? It's eight, babe. You're sure you're okay?" He put down his attache case, coat, and keys by the bed, stepping over the broken candles to focus his brown eyes on me while, between them, a crease was slowly etching into a too-familiar expression.

What was it with everyone frowning at me like that today? What was it with this question?

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. I just wanted to light candles for our dinner."

"I didn't even know you had candles." He lifted a perplexed eyebrow.

But at least, it wasn't a frown, and his charming smile wasn't far as I explained with a sigh,

"It's your friends Oscar and Georgina who offered them to me for my 23rd birthday. I don't have anything to light them up, though."

"Well, getting rid of them is faster than finding a lighter! Candles are a little too much, anyway. Don't you think?"

It was one way to see it, but his grin was convincing.

"As long as I've got my beautiful fiancee and a bed, it's all I need."

"Your 'beautiful fiancee and a bed'?" I rolled my lips together to hold back my smile, although the tug at the corners was winning as he nodded, holding out his hand, with his foot resting on the first step of my ladder like a Romeo—a modern Romeo in Armani suit and short-styled hair, who had braved broken shards to lean closer, and whose dark gaze was currently only on me, sliding down the outlines of my slim waist in his favorite tight, black dress.

"Yes, my beautiful fiancee and—Wait, you're barefoot?" Before I could even think of giving in to his charming smile, it fell down, along with his eyes to my bare feet joining him on the lowest step. "Let me pick the broken glass so you don't hurt yourself."

"No, it's fine. I can step over them."

"Althea, I know you have long legs, but not to this point!" He chuckled, already walking across the room, and with the cracks of glass under his shoes, I took in how many shards were scattered on the floor.

Granted that my bedroom was barely a few feet wide, it was still a lot for a simple candle, and when Jordon came back with the hand broom and dustpan, I doubted they would be enough, especially with the angle he was holding them.

It was in moments like these that I remembered how we were from such different backgrounds, and he'd probably never had to clean shards of glass on the floor when he'd been a kid. Had he ever broken something in his life, except for bankrupt companies to rebuild bigger ones?

Watching his meticulous gestures, I quickly offered to take over and sent him to grab a trash bag so that we could enjoy our dinner before it cooled. Well, if I didn't do more disaster, which wasn't assured when he returned with the bag and... a rectangle of paper.

"What is this?"

I jumped again, my stomach following the jolt of all the tiny shards in the dustpan as I recognized the cream card.

"You didn't tell me Kylie and Paxton were getting married next month?"

"Yes, I did... Remember I told you he gave her Cucciolo the day he proposed, and the ring was in its collar?" I nodded to the dog they were both holding in the photo, though my gaze stayed on the unsteady shards of glass as I threw them in the trash bag. "And I think I told you about the wedding at some point too, but we've been so busy lately..."

"We should go."

"What?!" Thankfully, I'd emptied the dustpan already, even if I couldn't say the same about the knots in my stomach.

"Yes, it's the occasion for me to finally meet them, and it can also give us some inspiration for our wed—"

"No!" The word was out faster than I could control it and rawer too apparently, as his brown eyes widened, and I had to clear my throat. "I mean... we'll surely be busy next month, and you don't even know when it is."

I grabbed the invitation in his hand, pretending to look at the date on the back, while black dots were covering my field of vision from getting up so abruptly.

"The 12, see, I have a waxing appointment that day."

"A waxing appointment?" he repeated, his calm voice making me realize how bad it would look on an apology message, as much as the silence following as I glanced around the dark gray floor for any remaining shards of glass.

"Okay, maybe I don't want to. Going with my fiancé there would be awkward and... inappropriate."

"Babe, it's been three years. Don't you think they've moved on? They'll surely be happy to see you."

Would they?

I couldn't picture their dad smiling as brightly as during those Sunday barbecues, nor their mom's 'Mamma Mia!' ever sound as lively. As for Paxton, I didn't even try to imagine his pale green gaze.

I wasn't keeping the invitation carefully with the verso up and the photo of these jade eyes, so similar to his brother, down mindlessly.

"They've invited you for a reason, after all."

"Yes, politeness probably." I sighed, my gaze lifting back to his soft, brown one, after having slid along every corner of the bedroom, which made me take in how small and empty it was. "I don't want to spoil their big day and bring them bad memories."

"Okay, I understand."

"Listen, J, darling, can we talk about it later? It was a long day for both of us, and the dinner is waiting, so let's not—Wait, what did you just say?"

"I said I understand, and if you don't want to, we won't go." He shrugged, so smoothly and easily that I wasn't even sure why such a heavy sigh hitched in my throat, and whatever tense gesture my arms had been about to do, they fell back down by my sides, where he grabbed my left hand.

Smoothly and easily, the same way his fingers brushed my shaky ones around the circle of silver, and he led us out of the room and out of this conversation.

"And you talked about dinner, if I heard it right? What did you cook?"

"Um, some grilled salmon, fried rice, and—"

"Your delicious sauteed broccoli?" He turned to me as soon as we stepped into the kitchen and the unmistakable aroma welcomed us, along with the square table I'd covered with a taupe tablecloth, beige napkins, and of course, all the necessary for a romantic dinner: fine crockery, a full breadbasket, and a bottle of sparkling wine.

There lacked only the candles, but the skyscraper lights we glimpsed through the window made up for it, and they even reflected in Jordon's dark eyes.

"Do we have something to celebrate?"

"Yes, two actually." I put the invitation on the counter, face down, before focusing on reheating the pans on the stove, while he grabbed the bottle.

"Make it three!" He smiled proudly, sparking my curiosity like the tiny bubbles in the golden liquid he poured into my flute. "But ladies first. Did your meeting go well?"

"Yes, it did. They liked the secret treasure collection and asked for the same presentation with the board."

Minus the 'bill blank', though those few seconds weren't worth taking down his grin.

"I'm so proud of you! See, your hard work is paying off, and it's just the beginning." The clink of our glasses sounded like to seal his words, or maybe ring my second news.

"Speaking of hard work... Linda gave me some vacations to rest before the board meeting."

"Va-ca-tions?" He almost choked on the word, putting down his still-full flute to set his wide gaze on me. "Are you sure it went well?"

"That's what I wondered too at first, but you know how Linda is. She said everyone needs vacations and rest sometimes, and I'll only be more productive after," I repeated the words she'd explained to me several times, omitting the part where she'd said I was probably the only human being on this earth dreading vacations.

Well, I wished she could have seen the human being in front of me, pulling his lips together in a confused pout, and my fingers were itching to snap a pic as I pulled out my phone.

I didn't though, my thumb swiping on the next app.

"Anyway, I have three weeks with no work, and since you've just finished the big Mercia deal and work is quieter for you, I thought maybe we could travel a little. It's the perfect season to go to Mexico."

I turned my phone over, showing him the photo with the bluest water, the whitest sand, and the most paradisiacal beach. And I'd got time to see a lot of pictures in the past hours.

However, it didn't pull him the kind of sigh I'd expected.

"Uh, babe..."

"Or there's Paris, the capital of fashion and gastronomy. The Greek islands, or something else if you prefer?"

"Althea, all of these look really good." And yet, instead of taking the phone I was handing him, he wrapped his fingers around my wrist, pulling me to him and diving his gaze into mine. "But I won't be able to take vacations until at least six weeks. That's my good news. We've landed a new deal, bigger than Mercia!"

"Oh, um, congratulations." I forced my lips and glass up, while the rest was tumbling down: the daydreams about idyllic landscapes, my held-out hand, and my gaze.

Though he caught the last one, lifting it with a soft hold on my chin. "I'm sorry, babe. I hope you didn't book something already?"

"Oh, no, no, I just browsed quickly this afternoon. 'Didn't pay for anything."

Except a sexy and expensive bikini I'd wanted to surprise him with.

"Then, maybe you can save the addresses, and we could go later? I have a few days in December, I think."

"You mean for Christmas?"

"Yes, why not? It can be nice to escape the cold weather, and it's easier to find hotels in advance."

Pragmatic as always, he was right, and when he clinked his glass against mine, I didn't know what to reply, apart from a hum above the rim of my flute as I took a gulp of the bitter liquid.

"You're mad at me?" He grabbed the glass from my hand, as if afraid I could get drunk with two sips, and as he put it down, along with my phone, his eyes sought mine honestly. "I'm really sorry, honey. I promise I'll make it up to you. I can even start now."

"I'm not mad at you, J... When have I ever been mad at you?"

It was impossible when he used his reasoned arguments and smooth smile—like at this instant, in the crook of my neck— and I wasn't surprised he'd gotten a new deal.

"I'm happy for you, and the trip can wait. I can't say I'm disappointed when I haven't thought about it before today."

Although it resembled it as my stomach was sinking lower and lower in my one gulp of alcohol, a few hours of anticipation couldn't make a high drop, and the abruptness was about what was coming.

"It's just that I don't know what I'll do for the next three weeks..."

Three weeks of nothingness, it was where my stomach was plummeting.

"You could start preparing the wedding? And my mom will gladly help you while she's here," he suggested, tightening his arms around my waist as if it could prevent the crash that made my stomach bounce back in its place.

"Aren't the wedding preparations supposed to be something the couples do together? And what is it even with the wedding you keep talking about tonight? I thought you wanted to wait and focus on our careers first?"

I realized it was a lot of questions as he pulled away, although the heavy sigh that still tickled my forehead answered them all.

"I do... but my mom keeps boring me because we've been engaged for six months already, and we still aren't living together."

"Yes, because it's more practical when our workplaces are on the opposite sides of New York. I thought she'd understood the last times we'd explained it?"

"Asian moms only understand two words: 'wedding' and 'grandkids', and if you don't give them at least one of them before 30, you're a desperate case. So you imagine how worried she is at my age."

Despite his chuckle, he didn't manage to make it sound like a joke, when his jaw was so tense, accentuating the 31 years-old marks on his features and the truth in his words.

"But you've already told her I don't want kids, at least not of my own, right?"

Once more, his gestures were obvious as he pinched the bridge of his nose, yet I still called softly,

"Jordon?"

"I... We've just got engaged, so it's not on the agenda at the moment. Don't worry."

"But it'll be on tomorrow's agenda when your mom arrives." I crossed my arms over my chest, trying not to waver as he peered up at me from under his creased eyebrows with priceless puppy eyes.

Well, what was priceless was the fact he was wearing these puppy eyes, as one hand was far enough to count how many times I'd witnessed that look, and he usually didn't need those to convince people.

But if you wanted to see the merciless CEO of Gims' investments, most eligible NYC bachelor of 2021, crumble down to a little puppy, you reminded him his momma was on a plane to visit him.

No one had more power over him. It was cute and frightening at the same time.

"I will do it. I will talk to her about it while she's here." He braced himself with a deep breath and a sip of sparkling wine before finally turning to me again. "Now, can we enjoy this delicious dinner you've made and the rest of our night?"

Right, the dinner that had been waiting for us. Thankfully, I'd put it on a low heat because it had been some long minutes already, and I knew there would be more as he slowly leaned closer, his fingers lightly tickling my arm and up my neck, and the anticipation buzzing between our parted mouths...

"Oh, no!" Jordon pulled away one millimeter before our lips could brush, and my eyes reopened to take in the vibrating phone in his hand.

From his wince at the screen, the dinner would definitely wait a few more minutes, but as for the anticipation and sensual mood, it was gone when the phone stopped buzzing.

"Your mom already?"

"No, my dad. It's about the new deal, and he won't stop until I answer."

As if to prove his words, the buzzing restarted, not letting him type a reply.

"They're going to drive me insane! You know you're lucky to have no family." He shook his head before stopping all his movements and snapping his gaze towards me when he realized what he'd just said, surely faster than I did. "I mean... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I know you'd prefer to have your parents alive and annoying you. I..."

"It's fine. I know what you meant, and you're stressed with everything. Don't worry. I understand." I stepped closer to let him see it was fine; I was fine, and I cupped his cheek as he was tenser than me. "Go answer this call so we can finally enjoy our night."

"Thank you. You're an angel! I won't be long."

After a light kiss on my hand, he rushed out of the kitchen, and although I wouldn't have called it 'luck', hearing snatches of his call and several sighs made me appreciate the good side of being an orphan.

I had no father setting my career expectations, and no mother's grandkid wishes to fulfill.

Did I really have no family either, though?

The question lingered in my mind like my gaze on the wedding invitation as I turned back to the pans on the stove.

So... we've finally met Jordon! What do you think the merciless CEO of Gims' investments, most eligible NYC bachelor of 2021? 👀

He's so sweet and supportive, but his big flaw is his mom lol 😂.

Also, what about Paxton and Kylie's wedding? 👀 At least, the good thing is that these two are still together! ❤️

Let me know all your thoughts in the comments! And don't forget to vote ⭐ if you like the story so far!

Every little word and feedback from you means the world to me, so thank you ❤️🥰😘. You're the best, my little peaches!! (yes, yes, it's your new nickname now 😉)