Clark's POV

"Thanks, Richard. I'll have those figures reviewed by the end of day." I wrap up the call with a satisfied sigh.

Richard and I have been in touch, on and off, since meeting at Ava's event two weeks ago. If she and I can stay out of trouble long enough until it's time to sign the necessary contracts, I'm positive I can get Richard on board to invest in Project Terra, too.

Overall, this week has been extremely productive.

Here's to hoping it stays that way.

A knock at the door interrupts my train of thought. My fingers freeze over the keyboard as I call for whoever it is to enter.

"Sorry to interrupt."

Yasmine, my assistant with the ever-changing hair color, breezes into my office with papers in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"In case he hasn't called yet, Jameson has been trying to get in touch with you all morning," she informs me. "He caught me in the elevator and said to tell you to meet with him in his office as soon as you're free."

I can't help but roll my eyes as I stand from my desk chair and grab my suit jacket. Perfect time to flee before he decides to pay me a personal visit.

"I'm actually about to head out for lunch. If you run into him again, tell him I'll follow up when I'm back."

I won't.

She nods, and I see her out.

I love my grandfather to death, but the old man has stepped on my last nerve. He now wants daily updates on my progress with Ava, and I don't know what's more infuriating—his fluctuating demands, or his inability to let me do my job as CEO.

After leaving the building, I instructed my driver, John, to take me to my favorite go-to spot, which happens to be the restaurant owned by my best friend, Oliver.

As we drive, my mind wanders back to the weird interaction that I had with my brother at Ava's event. I haven't heard a peep from Christian since that night, and I still have no clue what business supposedly brought him back to town.

The more I mull over his potential motives, the more unsettled I feel about his reappearance.

When John eventually pulls into the parking lot of Hudson's Kitchen, alarm bells set off around me. There's only one car sitting out here, and it belongs to Oliver. It's the middle of the week during peak lunch hours. There should be cars sitting in every spot. Something's off.

"Give me a second, John." Still in the car, I call Oliver to find out what's going on. He picks up on the second ring.

"Hey, man! I was just about to call you."

"Great minds think alike," I chuckle. "Are you closed for today? I only see your car sitting out here."

"About that..."

Oliver explains how he's been experimenting with recipes for a new menu that he plans to launch this weekend. He shut down for the day to play around and test things out. I'm not surprised anymore. He's always been a bit spontaneous.

"Because you've been my number one supporter all these years, I was going to invite you and Elias to sample the new dishes."

"Who said I couldn't handle this job alone?"

He laughs. "Me. I'd love to meet the guy. Don't you think it's about that time? You never would've found him if not for me, you know?"

I roll my eyes, smirking. "Don't rub it in."

He has a point, though. Elias and I are stuck with each other for a year. Legally speaking. It's only right that he and Oliver meet, considering I've already met Elias' friends. Plus, it'll be good for us to have another person we can be ourselves around because they're already aware of our arrangement.

"Listen, I'm supposed to head back to the office in an hour," I tell him, glancing at my watch. "I can't spend the rest of the day stuffing my face with your wild concoctions."

"Taking a few hours off won't kill your company, Clark. Get your ass inside."

He hangs up before I can respond. I quickly text Elias about the invitation.

Clark: My friend is experimenting with his restaurant's menu. Care to taste test with me?

It takes a minute for him to respond.

Elias: Yeah! I'm in town finishing up a few errands.

Elias: I can swing by in a few. Address?

I send him the restaurant's address and then pocket my phone, taking a deep breath before exiting the car. Oliver's food, coupled with Elias's company, might just be the perfect midday escape from all the stress and questions clouding my mind. At least for a little while.

"Almost thought you drove off for a second." Oliver appears at the restaurant's entrance and waves me inside with a welcoming grin. "Is Elias coming?"

"I just texted him. He's on the way."

"Cool. I'll try not to embarrass you too much."

I playfully roll my eyes. "How about you not embarrass me at all? We aren't dating for real, remember?"

He smirks. "Sure, buddy. Whatever you say."

We settled into my usual table and played catch up with each other for about ten minutes. Then, suddenly changing the subject, Oliver leans forward with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Be real with me, man. How are things with you and Elias behind closed doors?" he asks.

It's a simple question that I, unfortunately, only have complicated answers for. I freeze on the spot when images of Elias and me tangled in my bed sheets, skin against skin, flash through my mind.

Heat rushes to my face as I struggle with a response.

"Well, shit." Oliver's eyes widen knowingly, another cheeky smirk tugging at his lips. "Something happened between you two, didn't it? Some freaky shit, perhaps?"

Am I that obvious?

I break eye contact briefly and fight the urge to smile like an idiot because everything that Elias and I did that night, I thoroughly enjoyed.

"It was just a one-time thing," I manage, trying to sound nonchalant.

Oliver barks out a laugh. "What the hell happened to keeping things professional, Mr. Professional?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but that's why we hooked up. To get rid of the sexual tension once and for all so we could get back to playing our roles properly."

"And your overthinking ass agreed to that? I'm shocked!"

I flipped him the bird.

"Humor me, then. With the 'sexual tension' finally out of the way, how have things been working out between you two?" Oliver asks, clearly seeing right through me.

I don't answer, and we both know why. Because if I'm being truly honest with myself, there's a part of me that craves Elias even more now. Consequences be damned.

"Fine, keep it to yourself," Oliver relents with another chuckle, leaning back in his seat.

"I'm afraid whatever I say out loud will become true, and feel more real," I admit quietly. "I can't afford to have that happen. Not with everything that's at stake."

Oliver nods, his expression softening. "I get this is supposed to be a work thing, but my unsolicited advice is that you should enjoy his company while he's around. I haven't seen you smile this much in months, so he's clearly having some positive effect on you."

Before I can respond, the bell above the door draws our attention as someone enters.

"Hello?" Elias' smooth voice carries through the empty room. My heart skips traitorously at the sound.

"That's him." I walk with Oliver to greet him, my body moving on instinct as I wrap Elias into a hug that lingers a fraction longer than necessary. "Elias, this is Oliver, my best friend," I introduced them, stepping back to allow space for the handshake exchange.

"I'm the one who told Clark about Rent a Partner," Oliver says, cheerfully. "So you can be yourself around me. I already know everything."

"Oh." Elias' laugh is tight with nerves when he glances at me. "I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing."

"He's talking about our arrangement, nothing else." I only tell the white lie to keep him from feeling exposed, despite Oliver already being aware of our hookup.

"Right." Oliver clears his throat before gesturing back to the booth. "Shall we get started? I'll bring out the first dish shortly, and I'd appreciate your honest opinions."

After he vanishes into the kitchen, I turn my attention back to Elias. "I hope I didn't pull you away from anything important. You said you were running errands?"

"Yeah. My mother is having issues with her back again," Elias sighs, and I notice he looks more tired than usual. "I was running a few errands for her before I took my lunch break. Your call actually came at the perfect time."

"I'm glad I reached out. Free food is the best food, and Oliver's cooking is top-tier. You'll love it."

"I'm sure I will." He smiles. "Oliver seems cool. How long have you two been friends?"

"Since birth, practically," I say, thinking back on years of shared experiences. "Our dads were best friends."

"Ah. So you grew up together and all that?"

I nod. "Pretty much."

"So he's the one I need to bribe if I ever wanted to learn about all your dirty little secrets?" He wiggles his brows, smirking at me.

"I wouldn't advise that," I playfully remarked.

Oliver returns from the kitchen carrying a steaming plate of chicken marsala fettuccine. The smell of garlic, mushrooms, and wine has my stomach growling like I haven't eaten in weeks as he sets it down on the table.

"This is my new take on a classic. I'll get your feedback when I bring out the next dish. Please enjoy." He flashes an eager grin before heading back to the kitchen.

"Not even gonna lie. This looks and smells absolutely amazing," Elias comments, inhaling deeply. "Oh my God..." His eyes flutter shut for a second, and he groans in anticipation. I quickly pass him a fork before I'm sucked into his spell.

"Shall we dig in?" I ask.

"Yes, please."

The first bite of the tender and juicy chicken has both of us staring at each other in disbelief. It makes no sense for something to taste this good. So good that we don't waste time on small talk. We both chow down like this is our last meal.

I'm reaching for my glass of water when Elias clears his throat to ask me a question.

"Any upcoming events planned for us this week?"

"Not at the moment," I reply, studying his face. "Aren't you glad to have a break from playing pretend?"

With a shrug, Elias flashes another smile. "I mean, it's not always all work and no play with you. We manage to keep ourselves entertained, too."

"By making reckless decisions at the last minute," I smirk, my mind jumping back to all the kisses we shared. The whispered sweet nothings. The touching.

I take a swig of water before I slip up and say all that out loud.

"Right. Reckless." A pretty blush stains his cheeks, and I wonder if he's thinking what I'm thinking. "Anyway..."

He shifts in his seat and one of his feet brushes against mine. A spark travels between us. We lock eyes and I swallow hard. He feels it, too. But before either of us can speak, Elias looks past me and stiffens. His eyes go wide again as he stares out the window.

"What's wrong?" I go on high alert and place my fork down, ready to attack or defend.

"Look directly behind you," he says lowly, urgently. "There's someone in a car across the street watching us! I swear I saw them holding something and pointing it this way. Looked too small to be a camera."

I try not to make a scene as I carefully follow his gaze, frowning, just in time to see a dark sedan peel away from the curb with a screech of tires.

What the hell?

"It was probably just paparazzi," I speak steadily, trying to sound more confident than I feel. "They're always on the lookout for any hint of a story. They must've followed me here after I left work."

"Aren't paparazzi more out in the open?" Elias asks, his brow furrowed. "That person looked way too sketchy to be paparazzi. And why'd they peel off like that—"

"Elias. Relax."

I reach for his hand and intertwine our fingers as if this were our norm. He looks at me in surprise but doesn't pull away. I give what I hope is a reassuring squeeze, pushing down my growing sense of trepidation.

"It's just paparazzi. And even if it wasn't, I would never let anything happen to you. Ever. Do you believe me?"

He nods, smiling softly.

"Good. Let's not let them spoil our meal," I suggest, but my mind is already turning over the possibilities...

Was that a genuine threat or just another annoyance that comes with living under public scrutiny?