Chapter 6: Winking at a Blind Man

Ethan looked faintly sheepish under Nathaniel's stare and waved it off with a grin.

"Hey, easy I only said that stuff earlier so you wouldn't feel bad about yourself. What happened between two consenting adults isn't a crime. It's done, so don't beat yourself up over it. Just chalk it up to experience."

"Miss Bennett's got a boyfriend, and it's probably not... you know, serious. Does that bother you?"

"No," Nathaniel said, too fast.

Ethan crossed his legs, satisfied. "Then it's settled. Nobody's disqualified here. As long as she's not married, you're still in the game. Stop wasting time keep stalling and her future kids will be old enough to fetch your coffee."

"So what do I do?" Nathaniel asked, more earnest than he'd ever sounded discussing a billion-dollar merger.

Ethan cleared his throat, feeling suddenly ten times more important.

"Chasing a decent girl takes strategy. Especially since she works for you she's probably complaining about you to her friends every single day."

Nathaniel said nothing.

Ethan racked his brain. He'd never actually pursued anyone women came to him.

Then he slapped his own thigh. "The charm offensive!"

"Don't look at me like that. Besides your money, this is your best asset. Leave a couple buttons undone. Roll your sleeves up. Show off the forearms. Every once in a while, let her see you tired, a little vulnerable bring out her nurturing instincts."

"The second a woman starts feeling sorry for you, she's halfway in love."

Ethan nodded to himself, quite pleased with his own wisdom, then stood and smoothed the wrinkles from his suit. "Alright, let's actually eat. I'm starving."

Downstairs.

Before the check arrived, Claire had already pulled out her phone, doing the math.

The other three, full and content, had sunk back into their chairs.

"With the service charge, it comes to 4,720," Claire said. "If we order about 260 more, that should round it out nicely."

"We physically cannot eat any more." All three shook their heads in unison, faces pale with dread. "One more bite and it's coming back up."

"Who said anything about eating it here? We're taking it home."

"I've got a video to film tonight," Claire said matter-of-factly, already waving down a server and scanning the menu.

They ended up boxing up half a portion of Wagyu and half a mushroom platter after the vouchers, it came to just twenty yuan.

"Perfect." She lifted the neatly wrapped bag and turned to Megan. "I'll turn this into a braised rice bowl. We can split it for lunch tomorrow."

"Yes! Excellent!"

Megan sat up straighter, shooting a smug look at Zoe and Derek. "Don't be jealous."

Zoe waved a hand. "Tonight's meal alone is going to keep me full for a week just thinking about it."

Back at her apartment, Claire tucked the ingredients into the fridge, set a bowl of rice to soak, and went to wash up.

She changed into comfortable loungewear, set up her ring light and phone stand.

Tonight's dish: Wagyu and mushroom risotto.

She diced the beef, mushrooms, onion, and scallion.

Butter melted and sizzled in the hot pan, onions browning deep and rich, the marbled cubes of Wagyu rolling in and releasing their fat with a burst of aroma.

Mushrooms next, then the sauce, then the raw rice folded in to simmer.

When she lifted the lid, steam rolled up in a cloud, every grain glossy and swollen with juice.

She caught the close-up shot, then cut the recording.

She portioned the rice into a container and stored it in the fridge.

After editing and posting, she refreshed her dashboard five thousand new followers overnight.

The rest of her payment from the air fryer brand had come through, and there was a new offer waiting:

[Hi, we'd love a sponsored post. Rate: ¥8,000.]

Claire stared at the number, breath catching.

Eight thousand.

Then she recognized the brand name.

It had made headlines a while back customers hospitalized after using the product. She pulled up the news.

Confirmed: failed safety inspections, a quiet settlement paid out. Now that the scandal had blown over, they were throwing money at influencers to rebuild their image.

Eight thousand was tempting. It was also radioactive.

Claire bit her lip and declined.

The second I lower my standards, I lose my followers' trust for good.

She leaned back against the couch, opened her savings app, and smiled.

¥4,156.08.

Next month's paycheck would push her past a million total earned.

She locked her phone, something warm settling in her chest she hadn't felt this hopeful in years.

Maybe someday I'll actually own a place in this city. Bring Grandpa here to live with me.

At 8:20, Claire arrived at the office and carried her lunchbox into the break room.

Mrs. Walker spotted it. "You packed lunch? We've got a whole cafeteria why cook? What'd you make?"

Claire smiled. "Beef and mushroom rice."

Mrs. Walker pulled out her phone Claire's video was already playing on the screen.

"You have to see this some food blogger I follow posted this exact thing last night! I was going to make it for my kids this weekend. What a coincidence, huh?"

"...Yeah. Small world," Claire said, genuinely startled to find a fan two feet away from her.

"Good morning, Mr. Cross" a voice called from outside.

Mrs. Walker's face changed instantly. She grabbed her water glass and slipped out. "Back to your desk, quick, quick."

Claire shoved the lunchbox into the fridge and hurried out behind her.

She'd barely sat down when the intercom rang. She grabbed her files and knocked.

"Come in."

Claire pushed open the door.

Nathaniel's suit jacket hung over the sofa. He stood in just his white shirt, sleeves shoved up past his elbows, forearms on full display. Two buttons undone at the collar, the outline of his chest visible beneath the fabric.

He was leaning against his desk, reading a document, and didn't look up right away just shifted his stance, letting his arm flex, veins standing out along the muscle.

Nailed it, he thought, giving Ethan a mental thumbs-up.

He'd woken up an hour early that morning specifically for this. Full strength session at the gym. Peak blood flow, right on schedule.

He glanced at Claire sideways, thinking smugly: That guy from last night looked like an undercooked noodle. No presence whatsoever.

If she's not blind, this should be an easy choice.

"Have legal look this over." He finally lifted his head, voice dropped low, deliberately warm.

He handed her the file, flexing his forearm just a little more than necessary. "And bring me a coffee."

Claire's gaze lingered two full seconds on his open collar and rolled sleeves.

She noticed. She's affected, Nathaniel thought, triumphant.

"Right away, sir." She turned toward the door.

Then she stopped at the wall panel by the door and reached up.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Three presses. The thermostat dropped from 25 to 22.

Nathaniel: "...?"

She turned back around. "Is that temperature all right, sir? Want it lower?"

"...Fine." Nathaniel pressed his lips together and gave a cold huff.

That, he thought bitterly, was like winking at a blind man.