Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Dinner and Doubt

Harper picked the place.

It wasn’t fancy. No white tablecloths, no private booths, no overpriced drinks. Just a quiet Italian spot tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop on a quiet corner downtown.

The kind of place you went to when you wanted good food and no drama.

Which was exactly what she needed right now—minus the part where she was having dinner with her boss.

Her very attractive, very intense, very complicated boss.

Easton Wolfe.

She still wasn’t sure how she ended up saying yes. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the curiosity, or the tiny voice in the back of her head that said he wants to see you outside of work.

That voice was trouble.

But she listened anyway.

⸻

He was already there when she arrived.

Sitting at a corner table by the window, sleeves rolled, blazer off, glass of water in front of him. He looked like a man who belonged anywhere he went. Like he owned the place, even if he didn’t.

Harper took a breath and walked in.

His eyes met hers the moment she stepped inside. She felt it—like a wire pulled tight between them.

“You’re late,” he said as she sat down.

She looked at the clock on the wall. “By two minutes.”

“I’m a punctual man.”

“Well, I’m a hungry woman,” she replied, picking up the menu. “Let’s meet in the middle.”

His mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close.

She liked when he almost smiled.

⸻

They ordered pasta and wine—her choice, which he didn’t argue with. That surprised her.

“So,” she said, once the waiter left, “is this the part where you start grilling me about contracts, vendors, and quarterly goals?”

“No.”

She blinked. “No?”

Easton leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping the side of his glass. “This isn’t about work. Not completely.”

That set off a dozen alarms in her head.

“What’s it about, then?” she asked carefully.

He studied her, like he was deciding how much to say. “You said you came here to start over.”

“I did.”

“What happened?”

Her guard snapped into place.

“That’s personal,” she said.

“I’m not asking to be nosy,” he replied. “I’m asking because you’re good. Sharp. Better than the last three assistants I’ve had put together. And people like that don’t just fall into jobs like this. They’re running from something, or toward something.”

She looked down at her wine. “Maybe both.”

He didn’t press. Just waited.

Harper sighed.

“Someone I trusted screwed me over,” she said quietly. “Both personally and professionally. I lost my job, my relationship, and half my confidence all in the same week.”

Easton’s jaw tightened. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging like it didn’t still sting. “So I packed up, moved here, and told myself I’d rebuild everything. On my own terms.”

He was quiet for a long second.

“That’s the thing about rebuilding,” he said. “Sometimes you make it stronger. Sometimes you make it colder.”

Harper looked at him.

“What about you?” she asked.

Easton’s eyes darkened. “What about me?”

“What are you running from?”

His smile was bitter. “You think I’m running?”

“I think everyone is, in some way.”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then he said, “I stopped running a long time ago. Now I just build walls.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. So she didn’t say anything.

Their food came. The conversation shifted. They talked about everything but work—books, music, the city, the awful traffic, the fact that Harper had a weird habit of dipping fries in ice cream.

It was easy.

Too easy.

And that was the part that scared her.

Because she was starting to forget that he was her boss. That this wasn’t a date. That crossing that line—even a little—could destroy everything she was working for.

But the way he looked at her…

The way his eyes lingered on her lips when she laughed…

It was dangerous.

And she wasn’t sure she cared.

⸻

He walked her outside after dinner. It was cool, a soft breeze threading through the street.

They stood there for a moment, neither of them moving.

“This was nice,” Harper said.

Easton nodded. “It was.”

He looked down at her. Close. Too close.

Her heart started racing.

Don’t do it, she told herself.