inioluwa094realの小説

Diana’s POVI was probably really hungry because I fell asleep in the car.Roland only woke me a few minutes ago, and now we’re sitting across from each other in a very basic restaurant. For me, it’s fine—actually, more than fine—but Roland looks painfully out of place. Too polished. Too composed. Like the room was never meant to contain him.It makes me wonder why he brought me here in the first place.Did he notice I was uncomfortable earlier? Is this his way of trying to make me relax?Nah. He doesn’t care that much.“Roland.”“Yes?” he responds, eyes still fixed on the laminated menu in his hands.“Did you—or your driver—perhaps make a wrong turn?” My tone is light, but my patience is low.“Why?”“I don’t know this place…” I trail off, struggling to finish the thought without sounding rude. “Well, it doesn’t seem like you—”He chuckles softly. “Hmm, really?”He signals one of the servers over. “We’ll have today’s rice special, the roast chicken, and—” He looks up at me. “Drink?”I

Roland’s POVAt the meeting, I couldn’t get my mind off the fact that Diana hadn’t eaten all day. Especially after she refused to come into the restaurant with me, insisting it was strictly professional.She’d only made breakfast for me this morning—then sat there and watched me eat. And in the few days I’ve known her, one thing is clear: Diana respects food. She enjoys it.“Mr. Graham, is anything wrong with the proposal? You seem uninterested.”One of my partners speaks up, silencing the table. I can feel several curious eyes on me.“Please excuse me for a minute.”I stand and step out of the restaurant, heading straight for my car.Dave is napping in the driver’s seat, but his eyes open calmly when I pull the back door open. Diana startles slightly—whatever she was doing before I arrived has her fidgeting as she sits upright, a stiff smile settling on her face.“Are you done?” she asks, clearly hoping the answer is yes.“It’s taking longer than expected,” I reply. I could swear I s

Diana’s POVI freeze.Like my brain has hit a pause button and forgotten how to unfreeze me.Every single person at the table is staring now, and I’m painfully aware of how quiet it’s gotten—of how expensive the silence feels. I manage a stiff smile and give a small, polite bow, the kind drilled into me by years of knowing when not to speak too much.“Roland, you’ve been holding out on us,” one of the men finally says, breaking the tension with a laugh.“Tell me about it,” a woman adds, eyes sharp with curiosity. “When did this even happen?”“Not too long ago,” Roland answers calmly.That’s it. No details. No elaboration.Of course.Another voice chimes in, warmer this time. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Miss Diana.”I pause, instinctively glancing at Roland, half-expecting a cue—some subtle signal that it’s my turn to respond. But he doesn’t even look at me. He’s already speaking to one of the waiters beside him, gesturing lightly.“Thank you,” I say instead, my voice soft but sinc

Diana’s POVI’ve been sitting in this car for three hours.Three. Whole. Hours.Why? Because I refused—refused—to go into the restaurant with Roland for his little tea party. Correction: meeting. A business meeting where they’d talk numbers and deals and things I don’t understand, and I’d just sit there like an accessory that didn’t match the outfit.I’ve done enough acting tough for one day. I deserve a break.When we walked into the office earlier, I felt it instantly—the eyes. Curious. Measuring. Sharp. Like they were trying to carve holes into my skin. It took everything in me to keep my chin up, to walk beside Roland like I belonged there, like I wasn’t acutely aware of every whisper that followed us down the hall.Seeing Troy helped, though. That was a genuine relief. I’ll text him later.And then there’s Roland’s assistant.I don’t know if I like her.I don’t know if she’s calculated—quietly strategic, hiding intentions behind professionalism—or if she’s genuinely oblivious to h

Roland’s POVI walk back into my office.She’s already returned to her book, but her eyes lift the second I step in.“Where’s Troy?”“Working,” I answer flatly.I move to my desk and begin arranging a few files, even though I’m not really arranging anything. I can feel her eyes on me—casual, curious—but I ignore it.I press the intercom. “Bonnie.”In less than a second, she struts in. “Yes, boss?”“These files aren’t arranged in order.” I tap the sack of documents on my desk, my eyes still glued to my computer screen.Her brows lift slightly. “I’m sorry. I told them to arrange it before sending it in.”“Isn’t it your job to double-check before it gets to me,” I say coolly, “or are you getting rusty?”I’m not in the mood for conversation. Bonnie’s worked with me for over five years—she knows when not to take it personally.“I’ll fix it right away.” She bends to pick them up.“Do it here,” I say without looking at her. “I need them immediately after this. And you work better under press

Troy laughs softly . “Were you watching us on the office cameras.”Silence.My eyes darken. “why would I?”“Just seems like something you can do”I say nothing.“That,” he continues, “that expression of yours tells me more than you're intending my friend, I'm right "“I'm irritated,” I say coolly. “That’s all.”“Sure,” he nods. “You’re always irritated.”He steps closer, lowering his voice. “But this is different right?”I straighten. “Careful.”“Roland,” he says quietly now, no teasing at all. “its not a horrible thing to like a woman and want her all to yourself stop acting like I'm accusing you of something absurd”That does it.I laugh—short, sharp, humorless. “You’re imagining things.”“No,” he says calmly. “I’ve known you since you were a stubborn, emotionally constipated teenager who thought liking someone was a weakness.”I clench my fists.“And you look exactly the same now,” he adds. “Just better dressed.”“I don’t like her,” I say firmly.Troy raises a brow. “Didn’t say yo