2. FINDING A DATE

By the time Davis got to work, the ache from the morning had hardened into something sharp and reckless.

It was the kind of ache he recognized too well. It settled into him the way neglect always had, carving out a familiar hollow in his chest. He had learned long ago that when something hurt and refused to leave, the best way to survive it was to dress well, smile wider, and keep moving.

The glass walls of the Dylan Corps tower reflected the man he had learned to be—tailored suit, unbothered stride, charming smile that came easily even when his heart felt anything but. What it did not show was the boy who had once waited by the window for a father who never came home, or the teenager who learned that silence from a parent could echo louder than shouting.

People greeted him as he walked past, many with admiration. Davis responded effortlessly, the way he always did. A nod here. A brief smile there. A joke tossed lightly over his shoulder. He made it look easy because it was easy. Attention had always come to him without effort.

Carefree. Untouchable.

If only they knew.

The truth was, Davis had grown accustomed to absence. When his father left, the house had grown big, too quiet. His mother, forced into survival mode, buried herself in work, in meetings, in numbers and negotiations. Love became practical. 

Thank God for good looks. Thank God for social status. Thank God for a smile that made people want to stay. That is how he distracted himself.

“Oh, Sir, thank goodness you are here.” Amber, his secretary walked briskly to his side as he walked through the vast company hall towards the elevator. "Your Sir, you have a meeting with Terra Textiles at 2:30. We had to be sure you had reviewed their proposals.” She paused in her speech as if she suddenly remembered the important question. " Where have you been? You are not usually this late.“

Amber had been his secretary for three years, long enough to see through his moods and short enough to still find him amusing. They were friends—and he knew she was asking out of genuine concern. She had seen him on good days and worse ones. She had watched women come and go without judgment. She knew the difference between distraction and damage.

“I went to see Elena today. She wants us to take a break from our relationship."

Amber gasped. “How dare she."

Davis shrugged indifferently as he walked, hands sliding into his pockets. “Said something about wanting to focus on her career and all of that. I really don't think I care.”

It was a lie, of course. But lies had always been easier than explanations. Caring meant vulnerability, and vulnerability was something he reserved for people who stayed. Elena, apparently, was no longer certain she would.

Amber clicked her tongue. “Ouch. What is her issue really?”

Davis shrugged. In truth, he was more thankful that her abrupt announcement wasn't in a public space. The Dylan name carried weight—and scrutiny. For some reason his mother had always been keen on him being as private as possible. The press were quick to send whatever news they could get, and a crack in his engagement would make delicious headlines.

Privacy was a luxury he could afford. Emotion was not.

“On the brighter side, now that she is preoccupied with her job and her boss, I think I should do well to attend my cousin's forthcoming book launch."

“Ah," Amber smiled in agreement. “You should. Go out, have fun and clear your mind after we close this deal."

“I don't plan to show up alone."

Amber studied him for a moment. “You want me to find you a date.”

“I want you to find me some one to accompany me since Elena won't be available."

“A real date or a distraction?” she asked pointedly.

He smirked. “Is there a difference?”

She shook her head with a small laugh. “Well, you are Davis Dylan. You can get any girl you want.”

“Elena has me questioning my charms these days."

Amber smirked. “I make a good date.”

“I'm not showing up with my secretary.”

“What about Ms. Steves from Advertising?”

“She has a lot on her plate."

“Rose? The new intern?"

“She needs to focus on her internship, not on parties.”

Amber rolled her eyes. “Okay… Wendy?”

She just got married.

“Chris, her assistant?”

Davis grimaced. “She has a jealous girlfriend.”

Amber sighed dramatically as he reached the elevator door. “Fine. I'll keep looking.”

“Thank you.” He said after her as she went towards the next one.

The elevator pinged softly, its doors sliding open with mechanical obedience. Davis stepped inside—hands in pockets, expression cool, posture relaxed. It was a familiar performance. One he had perfected to hide the restlessness beneath his skin.

Inwardly, his thoughts churned. Part of him hoped Elena would call. That she would reconsider, apologize, reassure him that he still mattered. Another part hoped she wouldn’t—so he could justify whatever came next without guilt. He had always filled emptiness with people. Tonight would be no different.

Just as the doors began to close, a blur of peach and denim sprinted toward him.

Movement caught his attention first. Color second.

A young woman lunged forward with a pink lunch bag clutched tightly to her chest, as though it were the most important thing in the world. Her black curly ponytail bounced wildly behind her, strands escaping to frame her face. Her eyes darted around in panic, wide and expressive, clearly afraid she had missed her chance.

Davis instinctively slid his suitcase between the doors, stopping them just in time.

She stumbled inside—straight into him.

Soft breasts pressed against his chest as she nearly toppled forward. The contact was brief but electric, startling him more than he cared to admit. Davis grabbed her elbows firmly,

steadying both her body and his rapidly sliding self-control.

For a moment, time slowed.