Kaori
I’ll make it up to you and Art. I promise. Theo asked me last minute to hang out with him and I couldn’t say no.
Alice
Well, I guess that’s okay. I want to hear all about it on Thursday!
Kaori
You got it.
I finish typing and click Send. Theo steps out of the nearest elevator. He’s thrown a checkered scarf and charcoal-gray overcoat on, looking every inch a male model. “Hungry?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Good. I have big plans for you.”
My pulse does a tap dance. Big plans... what does that mean? Is he going to play tour guide tonight?
I can’t help but steal a glance at the London Eye glowing in the distance, its giant wheel reflecting off the dark surface of the Thames. If he really is playing the tourist angle, I secretly hope we end up somewhere like that.
I can already see it—the two of us tucked away in a private pod, the city sprawling beneath us like a map of light, and maybe, if the stars align, enjoying another kiss.
We walk out the revolving doors together. I expect himto head right, toward the Anchor, the pub right off the South Bank Tube Station. But he heads to the left.
“Dinner is that way.” He smirks, chin ticking toward the opposite direction.
“We’re not headed to the Anchor?”
“No.” He suppresses a grimace. “It’s an overpriced tourist trap for what you get.”
“So we’re going somewhere else.”
“Somewhere much better,” he says.
I knew it!You may think you’re being secretive, Theo Riverton, but I’ve got your number. You’re taking me on a date!
He lifts an arm and whistles two sharp notes. A black cab noses out of the line and straight up to us. Theo’s hand finds the small of my back and ushers me into the vehicle. He shuts the door behind him with a softthunk.
“Where to?” the driver asks over his shoulder.
Sliding in beside me, Theo pulls his phone from his pocket, scrolls, and turns the screen toward the front. “Here,” he says. The driver nods, shifts into gear, and the city starts to move again around us.
I angle toward him. “You’re being secretive.”
“I prefer the term ‘mysterious,’” he counters, resting his arm along the seat back, grinning like a cat who’s been given tuna water.
“And you won’t tell me anything else, will you?”
“No.”
I shake my head and turn to the window, watching the South Bank offices slide past in the reflection. After a day like today, we deserve a night to ourselves.
The presentation itself went off without a hitch. Every chart aligned, and each graph supported the models we’dfought to fix over the weekend. Theo had an answer for all the questions thrown at him. Even the ones his father asked.
He defended his team and took responsibility for every decision. But it was obvious what was happening. Mr. Harris wasn’t looking for answers. He was looking for cracks. And when he didn’t find any, he conceded defeat and finished with a perfunctory thank-you.
I wanted to jump in and tell the man how Theo hadn’t slept in days and refused to give up until he’d saved the project. But I didn’t. It would’ve done more harm than good. Men like Mr. Harris only care about numbers and the end result. Never the people behind them.
