The dinner

He reached for the sleek black phone on his desk and pressed a button.

"Yes, Mr. Larry?" came the soft, professional voice of his secretary, Monica.

“Arrange a dinner meeting with June,” he said smoothly, his voice laced with controlled confidence. “Make it tonight. 7 PM. ATM Leo Restaurant. I want the private suite something elegant, intimate, but not obvious. Tell her I’d like to talk things over. Stress that. Make it sound... conciliatory.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll reach out right away.”

He hung up, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. This wasn’t just a dinner invitation. This was strategy. A chess move. He knew June wasn’t the type to be easily swayed but tonight, he wouldn’t need to sway her. He only needed her to listen to him.

****

June stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, her phone in hand. The soft chime of a new message drew her attention.

“Ma,” her assistant, Lisa, called from the other room, walking in with her own phone in hand. “You just got a message from Mr. Larry’s secretary. He’s invited you to dinner tonight. 7 PM. ATM Leo Restaurant. It’s... one of the most exclusive places in the city.”

June turned slightly, her brow furrowed. “ATM Leo?” she repeated slowly, her voice cool but thoughtful.

“Yes, ma,” Lisa said, hesitating. “I can respond for you. Tell them you’re not available”

“Yes,” June said sharply, turning back to the mirror. “Tell her I’m busy. I won’t be chanced for it.”

Lisa nodded and was about to type the response, but June suddenly raised a hand to stop her.

She stared at her own reflection. Her deep brown eyes, usually fierce and unreadable, softened just slightly. She hated that this invitation had stirred something in her. Not hope. Not nostalgia. Strategy. And wariness.

Declining would make her look uninterested, but perhaps too proud. And in their game hers and Larry’s every move mattered. Declining might be the logical choice. The safer one. But not necessarily the smarter one.

She turned away from the mirror and paced the room slowly, thinking.

Larry didn’t ask to meet unless he had a reason—he was too calculating for that. Which meant tonight’s dinner wasn’t about reconciliation. It was a play. A move in a larger game she still didn’t fully understand. But if he wanted to talk, fine. She’d listen. And she’d come armed with charm, with steel, and with questions he wouldn’t expect.

“No,” she said finally, her voice even. “Change the reply. Tell her I’ll be there.”

Lisa looked up, a little surprised. “You sure, ma?”

June nodded slowly. “Yes. I’ll be there by seven.”

She glanced back at the mirror, her eyes hardening again. “Tell the driver to be ready by 6:30. And bring out the navy blue dress the one with the low back. If we’re going to talk, I’m going to make sure he remembers who he’s dealing with.”

Lisa smiled faintly and left to get things ready. Alone again, June looked out the window, the city bathed in amber light.

*****

The grand entrance of ATM Leo, one of the city’s most elite establishments, exuded opulence and old-world charm. A soft orchestral melody floated in the background while uniformed hosts escorted guests with the kind of reverence usually reserved for royalty. The private suite Larry had reserved was tucked away behind frosted glass doors, insulated from the buzz of the main dining area. It was dimly lit, with a single chandelier casting a warm golden glow over a polished mahogany table set for two.

Larry stood by the window, nursing a glass of aged scotch, his back turned. When he heard the door open, he turned—and froze.

There she was.

June.

She stood at the threshold with the poise of a queen and the allure of something untouchable. Her navy-blue gown hugged her curves with effortless grace, the low back revealing smooth skin and strength in the way she carried herself. Her natural curls were swept into a loose updo, a few tendrils framing her striking features. She had always been beautiful but tonight, she looked untouchable.

Larry’s composure cracked for a split second, and that was rare for him.

“Miss June,” he said with a smile, masking his awe with charm. He moved forward to greet her, gesturing gallantly to the seat across from his. “I never thought you’d actually honor my invitation.”

June gave him a cool, measured smile, walking with slow, deliberate grace to the table. “Well,” she said, her voice laced with elegance and just the right amount of scorn, “I couldn’t possibly ignore an invitation from my ex-husband, could I?”

Larry chuckled, though the remark stung more than he expected. “Wow,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “That was harsh.”

She sipped from the glass of water already at the table. “Was it?” she asked innocently, then leaned back, crossing her legs. “Just honest.”

He sat down across from her, trying to ease the tension with a roguish smile. “I suppose I deserved that.”

There was a brief silence. The waiter arrived to take their orders June requested a delicate seafood risotto, Larry a medium-rare steak but once the server left, the room settled into a charged stillness.

“So,” he began, swirling his drink. “How has life been... after the divorce?”

The question hit like a slow bullet. June inhaled subtly, her throat tightening for a moment. She looked away just for a second. There had been nights she cried alone in bed. Days she couldn’t bring herself to leave the house. Mornings when her chest felt like it would collapse under the weight of everything she had lost. And yet she was here now. Strong. Poised. In control.

“A breath of fresh air,” she said finally, her voice even, eyes locked with his. “Truly.”

Larry studied her face, but she gave nothing away. He took another sip of his drink, then leaned in a little, tone casual but calculated. “Anyone... in your life now?”

June blinked, caught off guard by the directness. The truth, of course, was no. There wasn’t anyone. She’d buried herself in work, in rebuilding her identity, in learning to love herself again. But tonight wasn’t the night to show vulnerability. Not with him.

She tilted her head and gave a sly smile. “Of course,” she said smoothly, lifting her wine glass and taking a delicate sip. “I’m in love. Deeply. With an amazing man. Someone kind... thoughtful... emotionally available. Someone who makes me feel seen. Safe. Loved.”

Larry’s smile faltered. For a flicker of a second, the mask slipped.

June continued, her tone cool but deadly precise. “Someone obviously better than you.”

The blow landed.

Larry laughed quietly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Wow,” he said again, sitting back. “You’ve gotten sharper. I like it.”

June smiled sweetly. “I always was sharp. You just never noticed.”