19- The Upcoming Gala

Ever since that evening with Adam, Elena had found herself thinking about Kaysen more than she wanted to.

She couldn’t understand his behavior. He told her not to let anyone touch her, yet he acted toward her in ways that left her unsure how to handle his own closeness. Worse, he never seemed as confused or hesitant as she was. He simply did whatever he wanted with infuriating calm, then went about his day as though nothing had happened.

She decided not to give it any importance.

But Kaysen, in his own way, wasn’t making that easy.

⸻

The following morning, Elena was coming downstairs with her laptop, a thick folder, and several loose papers she wanted to review before the meeting.

At the last step, one of the papers slipped from between the folders.

She bent down to retrieve it quickly, but another hand reached it first.

“Are you carrying half the office with you?”

She looked up.

Kaysen was standing in front of her. He had picked up the thick folder from her hand without waiting for an answer.

“It’s work documents.”

He glanced at the remaining papers in her arms, then took those as well.

She froze for a moment.

“Mr. Vance, I can carry them.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

He headed toward the sitting room, leaving her standing there for a moment before she followed.

It was a simple gesture, hardly worth getting flustered over. And yet she couldn’t stop herself from watching his hand as he carried her files as though they belonged to him.

He placed them on the table, then turned toward her.

“Coffee?”

“I’ll get it myself.”

“As you wish.”

But as she headed toward the kitchen, his voice stopped her.

“Elena.”

She turned.

His gaze was fixed on the twisted edge of her shirt collar.

He took a step closer and reached out to straighten it before she could understand what he intended to do.

Her breath caught.

She remained still as his fingers brushed lightly against her neck before withdrawing.

“Better now.”

She swallowed her embarrassment and looked at him.

“I could have fixed it myself.”

“But you didn’t.”

He said it simply, then returned to his papers.

It took her a few moments to remember where she’d been going.

⸻

That afternoon, Kaysen asked her to come to his office.

She found him standing by the window, speaking on the phone. He gestured for her to sit, then ended the call.

He pushed an elegant invitation card toward her.

“We have a gala on Wednesday evening.”

She picked it up and read the details. It was a major event organized by one of the institutions affiliated with the Vance Group, and several prominent businesspeople and public figures were expected to attend.

“Would you like me to prepare the guest list?”

“No.”

She raised her eyes.

“Then?”

“You’ll attend with me.”

She looked at him in surprise.

“In what capacity?”

A brief silence followed.

Kaysen closed the folder in front of him, then lifted his gaze to hers.

“My assistant.”

His tone wasn’t particularly different, but his gaze had darkened, as though the answer hadn’t entirely satisfied him.

She studied his face.

“Isn’t being your employee enough?”

“At work, yes.”

“And this isn’t work?”

He approached his desk and rested both hands against its edge.

“Not everything that happens in that room will be about business.”

She didn’t know what he expected her to understand, so she continued watching him.

Then she asked,

“Why me?”

He straightened slowly.

“Because I chose you.”

His answer was so direct that she lost her response for a moment.

She looked away, focusing on the invitation.

“All right. I’ll attend.”

“Good.”

She stood to leave, but stopped when his voice reached her again.

“Elena.”

She turned.

“I don’t want you spending the entire evening standing beside one of the organizers discussing schedules and work arrangements.”

Her eyebrows drew together.

“You’re taking me to a business gala, then asking me not to work?”

“You have an unusual ability to turn everything into an assignment.”

She smiled despite herself.

“I learned from the best.”

A fleeting smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m afraid you’ve learned more than you should have.”

⸻

That evening, Elena was in the small sitting room of her east wing when someone knocked.

A housekeeper entered carrying an elegant box.

“This has arrived for you.”

Elena looked at it.

“What is it?”

“Mr. Vance sent it.”

The housekeeper placed it on the table and left.

Elena opened the box and found a dark green dress with an elegant, understated design. Beside it was a small case containing a delicate pair of earrings.

She ran her fingers over the fabric before taking out the little card tucked inside.

It contained only one sentence:

Wednesday, eight o’clock. Don’t be late.

There was no signature.

She didn’t need one.

She placed the card back inside and looked at the dress again.

It was a precise choice, neither too extravagant nor far removed from her taste. And that bothered her more than anything. She found herself wondering when Kaysen had started paying attention to what she liked to wear.

⸻

The following day, Elena entered Kaysen’s office to ask him about a few details concerning the gala.

He was seated behind his desk, reviewing documents, with his phone resting beside him.

“The dress arrived.”

He raised his eyes to her.

“Have you seen it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

She hesitated slightly.

“It’s beautiful.”

He closed the folder in front of him.

“Then that’s settled.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“Are you accustomed to choosing your employees’ clothes as well?”

He looked at her for a long moment before answering.

“No.”

His reply was brief, but it made her feel as though she’d asked a question she shouldn’t have.

She approached the desk and placed the folder she was carrying in front of him.

“Anyway, you didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

He reached for the folder but didn’t take it immediately. His eyes fell on her fingers resting on its cover before lifting to her face.

“Does it bother you when I take care of the details?”

She hadn’t expected the question.

“I don’t know if that’s what you’re doing.”

A slow smile appeared on his face.

“And what do you think I’m doing?”

She withdrew her hand from the folder.

“That’s exactly what I don’t understand.”

He finally took the folder and gestured toward the chair.

“Then don’t exhaust yourself trying to understand everything.”

She sat down, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking at him a moment longer than necessary.

He spoke to her calmly, as though the distance between them hadn’t changed, as though his hand hadn’t nearly touched her fingers only moments earlier.

Yet she was still thinking about his question.

⸻

On Wednesday morning, Elena stood in front of the mirror in her suite, trying to fasten one of her earrings.

It wouldn’t stay in place, so she tried again before hearing a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

The housekeeper entered, then smiled when she saw her.

“You look lovely.”

“Thank you.”

She helped Elena secure the earring, then left once she was satisfied that everything was in place.

A little later, Elena went downstairs.

Kaysen was waiting at the bottom of the staircase, dressed in a black suit with a dark tie. He lifted his head when he heard her footsteps.

She stopped on the last step.

He said nothing.

His eyes moved over her in silence, from the dress to her face, until she completely forgot the sentence she’d been planning to say.

“Is something wrong?” she finally asked.

He approached her.

“Come here.”

She didn’t move immediately.

“Why?”

He gestured toward the earring in her ear.

“It isn’t secured properly.”

She raised a hand toward it.

“I already fixed it.”

“Badly.”

Before she could object, he was standing in front of her, raising one hand beside her face. He took the earring between his fingers and secured it carefully.

He was very close.

She could hear only his quiet voice when he said,

“Don’t move.”

She went completely still, although she hadn’t intended to move in the first place.

He finished fastening it, but didn’t step away immediately. His fingers remained near her ear for a moment before slowly lowering.

“Now it won’t fall.”

She looked at him, unable to find an appropriate response.

He tilted his head slightly, studying her flustered expression.

“Have you lost the ability to speak?”

She managed to recover her voice.

“No.”

“Good.”

Then he reached toward her and took the small handbag from her hand.

“Let’s go.”

She looked at the bag in his hand, then at him.

“Even this?”

He opened the door without looking back.

“Apparently, you carry too many unnecessary things.”

She followed him, trying to hide her smile and her embarrassment at the same time.

When they reached the car, he opened the door for her and waited until she was seated. He leaned forward to place her handbag beside her, then reached toward her seat belt.

Her eyes settled on his face.

“I can do that.”

He looked up at her, the distance between them still close.

“I know.”

This time, he didn’t finish what he’d started. He left the belt for her to fasten herself, then quietly closed the door.

Elena sat staring ahead, realizing that it wasn’t about the handbag, the earring, or the seat belt.

It was the way he did all these things: without hesitation, without asking, and without giving her enough time to decide whether she would allow him to or not.

When he settled beside her, he turned toward her.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded.

“Yes.”

He turned his attention to the road, then said calmly,

“Then let’s see how you handle this evening.”

She didn’t understand why his words sounded like a promise of something she wasn’t prepared for yet.

But for the first time, she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.