Chapter 42: Reservations and Revelations

The restaurant sat like a crown jewel atop the hills of Los Angeles — a glittering haven of golden chandeliers, soft jazz, and panoramic windows that bathed every table in the twilight of the city skyline. Katherine had only seen it in magazines or on celebrity I*******m feeds. And now she was here, heels clicking softly on the marble floor, escorted by a maître d’ to the best seat in the house.

And Sebastian Mason was already there, waiting — perfectly composed, in a charcoal suit that matched the dim elegance of the room, his cufflinks catching the light like secrets.

Katherine’s breath caught.

The corner table was framed by floor-to-ceiling glass, overlooking the ocean in the distance. A single candle flickered between them, and two glasses of deep red wine already awaited their arrival.

She hesitated.

He stood up immediately, walking around the table to pull out her chair. “Miss Brown.”

“Sebastian...” she murmured, sitting down. “This is... not just dinner.”

“No,” he admitted, returning to his seat with a small smile. “This is apology dinner, executive-edition. Come with strings, charm, and a view.”

She stared out the window, still speechless.

He lifted his glass. “To a truce?”

She met his gaze, uncertain. “You do realize this is the most romantic restaurant in the entire state, right?”

“Is it?” He feigned innocence, then smirked. “How terribly inappropriate of me.”

She shook her head, unable to hide her smile. “Sebastian... this is ridiculous.”

“Is that Katherine Brown for impressed?” he teased, sipping his wine.

She paused, then gave in. “Very.”

They ordered from the curated chef’s menu — dishes neither of them could pronounce but both clearly enjoyed — and soon, the formality eased. Conversation flowed like the wine, their usual sharp edges dulled for the night.

But Sebastian’s eyes never left her too long. He studied her every move — the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, how her fingers lingered on the stem of her glass, how she smiled more with her eyes than her lips.

And then, in the pause between main course and dessert, he said it.

“I know who called you.”

Katherine froze.

Her fork halted mid-air. “What?”

He leaned back slowly, folding his hands on the table. “Earlier this week. The call that rattled you.”

Her spine straightened, her pulse quickening. “You’ve been —”

“— Paying attention,” he interrupted gently. “That’s all.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Sebastian...”

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” he said. “But I do know it wasn’t a work call. And I know it wasn’t nothing either.”

Katherine’s throat dried. She took a slow sip of water, trying to gather herself.

“You looked like the ground beneath your feet had moved,” he added quietly. “And since then, you've been different. Guarded. Distracted.”

She swallowed hard, lips parting — but no sound came.

He didn’t press.

Just watched her. Waited.

Finally, she spoke. “Who told you?”

He gave her a knowing look. “You think I came all this way to evaluate a branch and didn’t look into the bigger picture?”

She blinked.

“Liam’s name came up,” he said. “And someone else.”

Now she sat back. “You’ve been digging.”

“I’ve been worried,” he corrected, voice low. “There’s a difference.”

Katherine closed her eyes for a second. “This is personal.”

“I figured,” he said.

She looked at him, unsure whether to be angry or... relieved.

And yet, beneath her frustration, there was a strange sense of safety in his words. As if, no matter how much she pushed, Sebastian would keep showing up — sharp, relentless, but always with his eyes wide open.

“He’s from my past,” she said finally. “And I don’t know what he wants.”

Sebastian’s jaw flexed slightly. “Is he a threat?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “But I don’t know.”

He nodded slowly, then looked out toward the skyline. “Let me help.”

She frowned. “This isn’t your problem.”

He turned back to her, his voice quieter than before. “You are.”

That silenced her.

He softened his tone a second later. “I’m not trying to take over your life, Katherine. But I’m not walking away from it either.”

The air between them shifted — heavy with everything unspoken, everything still blooming beneath the surface.

For the first time, Katherine let herself relax into it. Just a little.

She looked down at the table, then at him. “Thank you.”

He smiled gently. “For what?”

“For... not walking away.”

Sebastian raised his glass again, eyes never leaving hers.

“I told you. I don’t walk away from things that matter.”

---

Sebastian took a slow sip of wine, then swirled the glass lightly between his fingers. “You know, for someone who thrives in chaos, you’ve been suspiciously... organized this week.”

Katherine looked up, eyes narrowing in mock offense. “Excuse me?”

He smirked. “I mean, color-coded notes. PowerPoint slides ahead of schedule. Minimal interruptions during meetings. No last-minute pizza in the boardroom. Frankly, I thought I’d stumbled into a parallel universe.”

She rolled her eyes, hiding a smile behind her napkin. “I was being professional, you Neanderthal.”

“No, you were being unlike yourself,” he countered, lips twitching. “And I’ve missed the mess.”

Katherine raised a brow. “Wow. Romantic and masochistic. That’s new.”

He chuckled. “Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy being the human equivalent of a hurricane.”

She grinned. “With glitter. And confetti.”

“And zero warning signs.”

“Exactly.” She paused, watching him across the table. “You really missed me?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just tilted his head slightly, as if trying to decide how honest to be.

Then: “More than I should have.”

Her breath caught. But before the moment thickened, he leaned in conspiratorially.

“Also,” he added in a whisper, “do you remember the time you spilled your caramel latte on the quarterly reports and my tie in one graceful, chaotic motion?”

She gasped. “That was an accident! And you weren’t supposed to keep that tie!”

“I framed it.”

Katherine burst out laughing. “You did not.”

“I swear.” He held up a hand. “It’s in my office back in New York. Right next to the ‘Brown & Chaos’ award plaque I made.”

She clutched her stomach from laughter. “Stop, I can’t breathe!”

“Come on, admit it,” he teased. “Life got boring without me around.”

“Oh please,” she said, still giggling. “I was doing just fine before you stomped in with your tailored suits and judgmental eyebrows.”

“Judgmental eyebrows?” he echoed, pretending to be offended. “These are premium executive brows. Very exclusive.”

“Sure,” she said, reaching for her wine. “Bet they come with a user manual.”

He leaned back in his chair, admiring her. “There you are,” he said softly.

She looked up, confused. “What?”

“You,” he said. “Finally.”

Katherine blinked, suddenly aware of what he meant.

Her laugh had been loud again. Her posture loose. Her sarcasm unfiltered. And somehow, over the past hour, she'd stopped thinking about that phone call, about Liam, about the weight pressing on her shoulders.

She was just... her.

And Sebastian noticed. Of course he noticed.

A flush rose in her cheeks.

“Don’t make a thing out of it,” she muttered, brushing her hair behind her ear.

He raised a brow. “Oh no, wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll just sit here in quiet awe, watching the glitter storm return to life.”

She made a face at him. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

Katherine toyed with her fork. “Honestly, I needed this.”

“I know.”

There was a short silence, but not an awkward one. Just peaceful. Familiar.

The waiter arrived with dessert — some impossibly delicate creation with spun sugar and passionfruit — and Katherine leaned forward, inspecting it.

“I’m terrified to touch it,” she said. “What if it collapses?”

“You say that as if destruction isn’t your natural state.”

She gave him a fake glare, then immediately stabbed the delicate sugar structure with her spoon. It crumbled spectacularly.

Sebastian clapped once. “And there it is. Art meets chaos.”

She laughed again. “Delicious chaos.”

They shared dessert like they’d done it a hundred times before — stealing bites, teasing each other about who got more, pretending not to notice their knees brushing under the table. And slowly, the air between them became something warmer. Softer. Charged.

By the time coffee arrived, the city below them was a sea of shimmering lights, and Katherine leaned on one hand, watching Sebastian like he wasn’t the man she once thought cold and unreachable.

He looked at her now like he wanted to stay in this moment forever.

And for once — just once — she didn’t look away.

“Hey,” she said, lowering her voice.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for this.”

He tilted his head. “For dinner?”

“For... remembering who I am.”

Sebastian’s expression grew serious. “How could I ever forget?”

---

The valet brought the car, but neither of them moved to get in.

“Walk with me?” Sebastian asked, his voice lower now, softer, as if afraid she might say no.

Katherine hesitated only a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s.”

They left the restaurant behind, its golden glow fading as they stepped onto the quiet stretch of sidewalk. The city buzzed around them — traffic murmurs, a distant siren, the laughter of someone on a rooftop nearby. But for them, everything else blurred.

Katherine kicked off her heels, holding them by the straps as they strolled. “If anyone says heels are empowering, they’ve never tried walking five blocks in them.”

Sebastian looked at her bare feet, amused. “You’ll get blisters.”

“I’ll survive,” she smirked. “Besides, this dress deserves freedom.”

He gave her a sidelong glance. “It really does. You look... stunning.”

She rolled her eyes. “You already said that.”

“I meant it every time.”

She bumped his shoulder lightly. “Careful. You’re sounding dangerously charming.”

He chuckled. “Too late.”

They walked a few more blocks like that — slow, aimless, as if they had nowhere to be. And maybe for the first time in days, they didn’t.

They passed a jazz bar with music spilling out through the open windows. Katherine swayed a little as they walked, hips moving gently to the rhythm.

“Don’t,” Sebastian warned, grinning.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“You’re trying to make me dance on a public sidewalk.”

“Oh, the horror,” she teased. “CEO caught slow-dancing in the wild.”

He reached for her hand. “Fine. One minute.”

And there, under a flickering streetlamp, they danced — not gracefully, not with practiced steps, but in that messy, comfortable way only two people who knew each other too well could manage.

Her head rested against his chest. His hand found the small of her back. The city moved around them, but for a moment, it didn’t matter.

When the music faded, they didn’t step away. They just stood like that, tangled together.

Then he whispered, “I missed this, too.”

She tilted her face up to him, eyes catching the gold of the streetlights. “You could’ve said that earlier.”

“I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear it.”

“I always want honesty,” she murmured.

“Even if it’s messy?”

She smiled. “Especially then.”

Sebastian’s hand rose to her jaw, brushing a strand of hair away. And then, slowly, carefully, he kissed her — soft, questioning at first, then deeper as she leaned into it. Her free hand curled into the fabric of his suit, anchoring herself there.

When they broke apart, she laughed — breathless and glowing.

“God, we’re so screwed,” she said.

“Hopelessly,” he agreed.

They kept walking. Talking. Teasing. The kiss hadn’t shattered anything — it had just made everything more real.

But they weren’t alone.

From across the street, near a row of parked cars, a phone camera clicked. Then another.

Neither of them noticed. Not at first.

But inside the quiet back room of a nearby bar, two mid-level department heads from the L.A. office sat nursing cocktails after a long week. One of them looked up and froze.

“Wait. Is that...?”

The other turned to the window and stared. “Holy hell. That’s Mason. With Brown.”

“Are they —?”

“Yep. They are.”

They both reached for their phones at the same time.

Meanwhile, on the sidewalk, Katherine finally noticed a sudden hush behind them. She turned and caught the glint of a flash — just a flicker before someone disappeared behind a parked SUV.

Her fingers tightened around Sebastian’s. “We’re not alone.”

He followed her gaze, exhaled slowly. “Press?”

“Or worse. Staff.”

They stood still for a second.

Then she whispered, “What do we do?”

Sebastian didn’t hesitate. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “We go on with our night.”

“You’re not worried?”

“Oh, I’m terrified,” he said, half-laughing. “But I’m also... finally happy.”

Katherine’s throat tightened.

For all the fire between them, the ambition, the sharp tongues and endless teasing — this moment felt dangerously close to something simple. Something real.

And that, she realized, might be the scariest part of all.

---