Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Bumping Into Him 

Two days later, Sarah was walking out of the hotel where she had been called for work. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the tall figure appearing in front of her until she walked straight into him.

She clutched her forehead and stepped back quickly. "Sorry, I'm really sorry—"

"Do you often use this method to start conversations?"

The voice was low and raspy and immediately familiar. Sarah looked up slowly.

Nathan Reed stared down at her with cold, unreadable eyes.

It was him. Again.

Sarah pressed her lips together. Of all the people in this city, how was it that every time she bumped into someone, it always turned out to be this particular man?

"I was just thinking about something else, Mr. Reed. I apologize."

Nathan said nothing. His gaze dropped to his jacket and his brow furrowed slightly. He reached for the collar with his long fingers, examined it briefly, then shrugged the jacket off with a look of open disdain and tossed it toward her without a word.

Sarah caught it and looked down. There was a distinct lipstick stain along the lower collar. She smiled awkwardly. "Mr. Reed, I'll have it cleaned and returned to you."

"No need." His dark eyes settled on her face, cold and steady. "I don't like others handling my things."

He looked at her for a moment longer without speaking.

Airport. Hospital. Hotel.

The thought crossed his mind quietly before he let it go.

His phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and his frown deepened before he picked up.

"Nathan, where are you? Alex has been fussing all day and hasn't eaten a single thing since this morning. You know he's still not well — if he gets sick again from hunger, what are we going to do?"

"I'm on my way," he said quietly. "I'll be there soon."

He ended the call.

Ever since Alex had met this woman two days ago, the boy had been completely impossible. Crying at every hour, wandering the house calling for her, refusing to eat or cooperate with anyone. Mrs. Reed had spoiled that child to the bone, and now this woman had somehow made everything worse.

Nathan looked back at Sarah, who was still standing there holding his jacket with a mildly confused expression. His voice came out calm and flat. "I don't want you appearing in front of my son again."

Sarah blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I don't like women who use any means necessary." Each word carried a quiet edge of disgust.

Sarah stared at him. She genuinely could not think of a single thing she had done to deserve that. A short, disbelieving laugh escaped her before she could stop it. 

She lifted her chin and met his gaze directly. "Mr. Reed, what kind of person I am is none of your business. And your son has absolutely nothing to do with me." She paused. "As for the jacket, I will compensate you. Cash or a replacement, your choice."

Nathan looked at her for a long moment. He noticed the stubbornness sitting plainly on her face, the way she held his stare without flinching. He chuckled once, quietly, his lip curling slightly as he stepped back and gave her a slow, dismissive glance.

"You couldn't afford it." He slid both hands into his pockets. "Consider the jacket a payment for the time you spent with my son during his IV drip. And don't bother trying to cross my path again."

He brushed past her and walked away.

Sarah stood there in the middle of the pavement completely speechless, the jacket still draped over her arm, her blood quietly boiling.

She replayed every word he had said and still could not identify the part where she had given him the impression she was chasing after him. She looked down at the jacket in her hands and bit her lip slowly.

If she had known he was going to be that insufferable, she would have bumped straight into his legs instead and watched him try to remove his trousers in front of everyone.

That evening Sarah was getting ready for bed when her phone lit up with an unknown number. It was her work line, so she picked up after a brief hesitation.

"Hello, is this Irish? Chief designer of the international fashion company?" The woman's voice was polished and respectful.

"Yes, this is she." Sarah kept her tone even. Irish was the name she used in the industry — her alias in the design world. "And you are?"

"My name is Jane. Design director at Reed's Fashion." A small pause. "I'm aware you'll be hosting a press conference next Monday. I was hoping to invite you for a coffee tomorrow to discuss Reed's current situation ahead of that."

Reed's Fashion had been trying aggressively to secure this collaboration, and Nathan had made it clear to everyone on his team that nothing was to go wrong. Jane had been assigned to make a strong first impression.

Sarah considered it for a moment. Learning about the company in advance was not a bad idea at all, it was actually part of why she had come back. "Tomorrow afternoon works for me," she said.

"Wonderful. Three o'clock at the café on the third floor of the downtown mall?"

"I'll be there."

The next afternoon, Sarah arrived at the mall right on time. The city center was loud and packed with people, but the third floor café existed in a world entirely of its own.

A tall woman in a sharp black suit rose as Sarah approached. The cut of the suit was clever, relaxed and formal at the same time, clearly the work of someone with real design instincts.

"Miss Jane?" Sarah asked.

The woman smiled. "That's me. Please, sit."

They settled across from each other. Jane wasted no time pulling a neat stack of documents from her bag and placing them on the table. "Miss Irish, here's an overview of Reed's design direction over the past several years. Please take a look."

Sarah went through each page carefully. There were many designs, technically clean, carefully executed. But not one of them stood out as anything remarkable.

"Miss Irish, would you like to order something?" Jane asked, noticing her expression.

Sarah shook her head. "Let's get straight to the point."

Jane nodded and was just opening her mouth when a voice cut cleanly through the quiet café.

"Sarah? Miss Jane? What are you both doing here?"

The voice was sweet and perfectly pitched, the kind of sweetness with a blade underneath it.

Sarah didn't need to look up to know.

But she did anyway.

Emma stood at the edge of their table, dressed immaculately, her gaze moving from Jane to Sarah with slow, deliberate calculation. It landed on the documents in Sarah's hands, and her brows pulled together.

Jane rose immediately. "Ms. Emma."

Emma barely acknowledged her. "Miss Jane." Her tone shifted, still smooth but carrying sudden weight. "If I'm not mistaken, those are the company's design drafts. They're confidential material." She let the word sit in the air. "Are you leaking company secrets to an outsider?"

Jane paled slightly. "Ms. Emma, it isn't like that at all. This is Miss Irish, the chief designer from the international fashion company. She's a key potential partner for Reed's Corporation — that's why I showed her the drafts."

Emma blinked once.

Then she laughed.

She looked at Jane with genuine amusement and pointed at Sarah. "You're telling me that she is the chief designer of the international fashion company?"

Jane nodded carefully. "Yes, ma'am."

Emma turned to Sarah fully, and the amusement on her face sharpened into something else entirely. "Sarah Ray. Have you completely lost your mind? Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to impersonate Irish?" Her voice dropped into something that resembled pity. "The real Irish is holding a press conference next Monday. At least do your research before you tell a lie that easy to expose."

Sarah's eyes darkened.

"I am Irish," she said simply. "Why would I pretend to be myself?"