Chapter Eight

Aiden 

"We have reports of a fatal accident on Interstate 10, near Phoenix, Arizona. According to eyewitnesses, a multi-vehicle collision occurred at approximately 5:00 PM today, resulting in multiple fatalities and injuries. 

Details are still emerging, but authorities confirm that at least eight vehicles were involved in the crash, including a semi-truck, a double-decker bus, and six passenger cars. The Arizona Department of Public Safety has reported a devastating toll, with over 50 casualties, including dead, injured, and still counting..."

I pick up the remote and switch the channel, rubbing my temple with the heel of my palm. I hate listening to devastating news like this. I flip through the stations available and finally turn off the TV when none of their contents appeal to me. I throw the remote down on my desk surface and fall back into my chair. The chair creaks softly beneath my weight, tilting to the side.

I'm waiting for the minutes to tick by so I can leave work and go on my date with the appealing Hermione Watson Pierce, whom I've offended. A subtle reminder echoes in my mind. I sit up, immediately clasping my fingers over my table, absorbed in my thoughts.

I've made a bad first impression on this lady, and it hurts my heart that our relationship is bound to start off on a rocky path. Father's arrangement, notwithstanding, if I had come across Hermione Watson Pierce on a normal day, I would have asked her out. And I may have won her over with my charms if I hadn't made that blunder at the time we met.

I have to find a way to fall back in her good graces. I decide, dialing Mr. Neil's office on my telephone. He answers promptly to my message and enters my office a few minutes later.

"You called, Sir," he says, approaching my desk.

I run a finger across my jaw, leaning against one elbow on my table. "I need you to carry out a task for me, Mr. Neil."

He doesn't blink or show resentment for my adding to his tasks despite his current workload. He nods briefly, waiting in anticipation to hear my request.

"I need you to look into Hermione Watson Pierce," I tell him, turning my palms flat down on my desk table's surface. "I want to know everything about her. What she likes, her preferences, what makes her tick, everything about her," I emphasize, gesturing with my hands.

A crooked smile forms on Mr. Neil's mouth, and he appraises me with a knowing glint in his eyes. "Are you interested in her as a woman?" he inquires, curious.

My arrangement with Hermione Watson Pierce hasn't been formally announced. And I would prefer it remains unnoticed by the media, lest they complicate things. Hermione Watson Pierce strikes me as the kind of woman who hates unnecessary publicity. 

And, given her stance on the idea of our union, it will affect my chances of winning her heart if she finds out I blurted rumors of our impending marriage to the public's notice. They will find out in time when our parents choose to release the details, but I won't be the one to reveal it.

I ignore him, brushing my fingers dismissively. "Just get it done."

Mr. Neil makes a teasing sound, arching his eyebrows. "Mmn."

I shake my head while pursing my lips and turn away from him.

"I will be leaving work early today," I inform him. "I have an appointment."

"With Ms. Watson Pierce, is that it?" Mr. Neil asks, smiling.

Although his guess is accurate, I shake my head.

"Don't stress it. Get back to work, Mr. Neil. I will appreciate it if you can get back to me on the reports by tomorrow morning."

"I will forward the details to you tonight," he says.

"Oh!" I wave my hand at him. "I don't need it in a rush. Take your time with it."

"I will send the detailed reports on Hermione Watson Pierce to you by tonight. And don't worry, it won't affect my other tasks," Mr. Neil states firmly.

"Okay," I murmur, gulping.

He excuses himself from my office after a polite bow.

I search for things that please women – anything to make Hermione Watson Pierce warm up to me. I often regard myself as an expert in charming women, but with Hermione, I'm at a loss. Nothing comes to mind when I try to think of what I can present to her as an offering of apology on this date.

The search results are filled with several suggestions, but they aren't helpful. The ideas don't strike me as the types a lady like Hermione would be flattered with.

Eventually, I settle on buying her apology flowers. With that decision made, I rise from my chair, draping my champagne-colored suit jacket over my shoulder. I grab my car keys from the table and make my way out of the company.

Mr. Neil bids me goodbye as I step towards the elevator. I respond to greetings from a few others I encounter on my way.

The elevator conveys me swiftly to the ground floor. I walk towards the canopied parking space behind the building, unlocking my car remotely. The headlights of my car, a sleek dark Audi with grey accents, flash twice, and the sound of its doors unlocking reaches my ears.

I get in, fasten my seatbelt in place, and start the engine. The engine rumbles beneath me as I swerve out of the parking space and out of the company.

My first stop is at a floral shop where I request a bouquet arrangement to convey my intention to her: an apology and a request for a second chance to start afresh. After making the payment, I thank the shop's attendant and head back to my car. I carefully set the bouquet in the passenger seat beside me, careful not to rustle its delicate arrangement. I close the door behind me and drive to the venue of our rendezvous.

I'm welcomed into the building by a staff member after confirming the reservation made for us. The place looks polished with its luxurious furnishings, decor, and ambiance. Much thought and investment have been poured into this building, given its alluring outlook. I'm led to a private room set to perfection. The staff member who escorts me gestures for me to walk in, and he closes the door behind me.

I settle into one of the chairs facing each other. The setting is romantic, although the participants are far from sharing its sentiments.

 I check the time on my wristwatch; I arrived on the dot. Perhaps that's why Hermione Watson Pierce isn't making an appearance yet. I help myself to the wine served on the table and drink while anticipating her arrival.

The minutes tick by, with an imaginary clock ticking away in my head. The sound of my foot tapping impatiently on the floor cuts through the silence in the ornately furnished private room. I note that it's now over thirty minutes since I've been waiting.

The door opens, and my heart skips a beat in a flare of hope, thinking it's Hermione. However, my gaze connects with the male waiter who escorted me here, and my mouth turns down in disappointment.

"Would you like to make an order, Sir? Would you like to try our chef's menu of the day?" the waiter inquires hesitantly, initially withdrawing a step back due to the disappointed look on my face.

I shake my head, rising from my chair. It's evident that Hermione Watson Pierce bailed on this date. Her resentment toward me must be deeply rooted if she couldn't even inform me of the cancellation. 

I shrug noncommittally; it's nothing I'm not used to. This is nothing compared to what Lachlan pulled on me this morning.

"Don't bother," I say. "I'm already leaving."

I leave a tip on the table for the waiter, pick up the bouquet, and exit the room. The waiter steps aside from the doorway, following my movement with a sympathetic look on his face.