She had taken the empty seat. Her posture still elegant, her smile still capable of breaking him in half. She hadn’t noticed him. Not yet. But Sara had—rising from the table and hurrying up the opposite staircase just in time to find an empty dining space.
He was already gone.
Jaxon reached the door, turned back, and caught Sara at the top. They locked eyes.
He lifted his hand in a silent goodbye.
A thank-you. A maybe one day.
She smiled, soft and bittersweet, and nodded back.
By the time Claire turned to see who Sara was waving at, Jaxon was already on the sidewalk—his back to the building, his past, his story. Just another man walking into the night.
Back downstairs, the waiter approached their table.
“Are you Sara?” he asked gently.
“I am… is something wrong?” she replied, startled.
“Not at all. The gentleman from upstairs asked me to take care of everything for your table. Dinner’s covered.”
Sara blinked. “Only he would do something like that.”
“And he asked me to give you this.” He handed her a neatly folded napkin, edges creased, words written in strong pen strokes:
"Thank you. Have a great dinner. Until next time – Jax."
Claire, confused but curious, leaned in. “Who’s it from?”
The older man at the table—her father—raised his brow. “Wait, who paid for our meal?”
The waiter double-checked the ticket. “J. Stone.”
Claire’s face fell.
Her breath caught.
Claire stood so fast her chair scraped against the floor. She shoved through the tables, flung the restaurant door open, and searched the crowded sidewalk with frantic eyes.
But he was gone.
And all she could do was breathe heavy in the empty space where he used to be.
By the time she returned to the table, her voice trembled. “I can’t believe he was that close. And I didn’t know.”
“Who was it, sweetie?” her father asked.
“That was Jaxon.” Claire’s voice rattled.
Her mother’s eyes widened. “The Jaxon?”
Sara sat silently, eyes cast toward the napkin still in her hand.
Claire turned to her, eyes wet. “What’s he doing here?”
“He just became a partner,” Sara said quietly. “Tonight’s his celebration dinner. I catered his promotion event yesterday.”
Claire froze. “That was the event you asked me to help with?”
