Promises at Dinner

Ava

Nearly an hour later, Alex and my father finally emerged from the study, both looking relaxed and slightly flushed from the brandy. My father's eyes were bright with satisfaction, Alex's with something I couldn't quite read.

"There they are!" my father announced. "Been having an excellent chat, haven't we, Alex?"

"Absolutely," Alex agreed, his gaze finding mine across the room. "Your father is a remarkable man, Ava."

"He has his moments," I acknowledged, noting the genuine warmth in Alex's voice. "But it's getting late, and it's a school night for Emilia."

"Of course, of course," my father said. "But you must all come again soon. Next time I'll grill. Nothing like a man in a wheelchair handling open flames to really liven up a dinner party."

"Dad," I groaned, while Alex laughed appreciatively.

"I'd be honored," he said sincerely. "This has been a wonderful evening."

Goodbyes were exchanged, with my father pulling me down for a private word as Alex helped Emilia with her jacket.

"He's a good one, Ava," he murmured, squeezing my hand. "Different than James, but good in his own way. I like how he looks at you."

"Dad—"

"I know, I know. I'm just a meddling old man." He patted my hand. "But I haven't seen you light up like this in years. Just... don't overthink it, okay? Sometimes the best things in life are the ones we don't plan for."

I swallowed hard, guilt twisting in my gut at his genuine happiness for me. This was exactly what I'd been afraid of—people who mattered believing in this fabricated relationship, investing emotionally in something that was ultimately just business.

"I love you, Dad," I said, unable to address his actual comments.

"Love you too, kiddo. Always have, always will."

The drive home started quietly, Emilia drifting off in the backseat almost immediately, exhausted from the excitement of the evening. Alex and I sat in companionable silence, the tension that usually simmered between us notably absent.

"Your father is incredible," Alex said finally, his voice low to avoid waking Emilia. "I can see where you get your strength from."

"He wasn't always like this," I admitted. "The accident changed him. Made him more reflective, more open. Before, he was more like..." I trailed off, realizing what I was about to say.

"Like me?" Alex finished, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"I was going to say 'like most successful businessmen,'" I hedged.

"Nice save," he chuckled.

We fell silent again, but it was a comfortable silence, the kind shared by people who don't feel the need to fill every moment with words.

"Thank you for Emilia's gifts," I said after a while. "That was... thoughtful. Unexpectedly so."

Alex's profile was gilded by passing streetlights, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the slight curve of his lips as he smiled. "You sound surprised."

"I am," I admitted. "I wouldn't have pegged you as someone who'd put that much effort into winning over a nine-year-old."

He shrugged, the gesture elegant even in the confines of the car. "She's important to you. That makes her important to this... arrangement."

The word felt coldly clinical after the warmth of the evening, a stark reminder of the reality beneath our performance.

"Right," I said, turning to look out the window. "The arrangement."

Alex glanced at me, then back at the road. "I didn't mean—"

"No, you're right," I interrupted. "That's exactly what this is. A business arrangement. It's good to remember that."

He fell silent, his knuckles whitening slightly on the steering wheel. "What did your father say to you?" he asked finally. "At the end."

I hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "He said he likes you."

"And?"

"And that I seem... happy. Around you."

Alex absorbed this, his expression unreadable. "Are you? Happy?"

The simple question caught me off guard. Was I happy? These past weeks had been a whirlwind of stress and complications, of navigating this bizarre fake engagement while trying to maintain my normal life. But there had also been moments—like tonight, watching Alex charm my father, seeing Emilia's reluctant warming to him—that had felt almost... good.

"I'm not unhappy," I offered finally, the closest to honesty I could manage.

A smile tugged at Alex's lips. "High praise indeed, coming from Ava Silver."

We pulled up to my house, the lights glowing warmly in the darkness. Alex turned off the engine but made no move to get out.

"I should carry her in," he said, nodding toward the sleeping Emilia. "Unless you'd rather I not."

"That would be... helpful," I acknowledged. "She's getting too heavy for me to manage easily."

Alex slipped out of the car and gently opened the back door. With surprising tenderness, he unbuckled Emilia and lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as if she were made of glass. She stirred slightly, murmuring something unintelligible before nestling against his shoulder, still deep in sleep.

The sight of my daughter in Alex's arms did something strange to my insides, a melting sensation I didn't want to examine too closely. I quickly unlocked the front door, holding it open as he carried her inside.

"Upstairs," I whispered. "Second door on the right."

Alex nodded, climbing the stairs with careful steps to avoid jostling her. I followed, watching as he gently laid her on her bed, stepping back to let me take over. I removed her shoes and covered her with a blanket, deciding to let her sleep in her clothes rather than risk waking her.

After pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, I rejoined Alex in the hallway, closing Emilia's door quietly behind me.

"Thank you," I said softly. "You're good with her."

"She makes it easy," he replied. "She's an amazing kid, Ava. Smart, direct, observant... she's a lot like you."

Pride swelled in my chest at his words. "She's better than me. Braver, kinder. Less cynical."

"She's had you as a mother," Alex said simply. "That makes all the difference."

There was something in his voice, a hint of old pain that made me wonder about his own childhood. But before I could consider asking, he glanced at his watch.

"I should go. It's late, and you probably have an early start tomorrow."

We descended the stairs in silence, the distance between us seeming both too great and not great enough. At the door, Alex paused, turning to face me.

"Tonight was..." he hesitated, searching for the right word.

"Surprising?" I supplied.

"I was going to say 'nice,' but surprising works too." His smile was slow, genuine. "Thank you for letting me into your world, Ava. Even if it's just for show."

The reminder of our arrangement hung between us, at odds with the genuine connection I'd felt throughout the evening. For a moment, I almost wished this was real—that Alex was actually my fiancé, that we were building a life together, that the warmth in his eyes when he looked at me wasn't just an act.

The thought was so unexpected, so unwelcome, that I took a physical step back.

"Goodnight, Alex," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I'll see you at the office tomorrow."

He studied me for a long moment, as if trying to read the thoughts I was so carefully hiding. "Goodnight, Ava," he said finally. "Sweet dreams."

As I watched him walk to his car, I couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted between us. This evening had started as another performance, another scene in our elaborate charade. But somewhere between my father's stories and Alex carrying Emilia to bed, the lines had blurred.

I closed the door, leaning against it as I tried to gather my scattered thoughts. This was dangerous territory. Alex Russo was my business rival, my fake fiancé, a temporary ally in a mutually beneficial arrangement. He was not someone I could allow myself to develop real feelings for.

But as I made my way upstairs, the house feeling strangely empty now that he'd gone, I couldn't deny the warmth that lingered in my chest, or the way my mind kept returning to the sight of him holding Emilia with such care, or the genuine pleasure in his laugh as my father told stories from my childhood.

This arrangement was becoming more complicated by the day. And for someone who prided herself on maintaining clear boundaries and rational decisions, that was the most unsettling realization of all.

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