Page 274 of Secret Heir For The Billionaire Twin

I shut down my computer and gather the last of my things before heading toward the small private restroom near the executive offices.

I brought the dress with me this morning because going home first would have made me late, and Julian has made his position on punctuality very clear.

The black dress is fitted without being excessive, falling just above my knees with a clean neckline and simple lines. I change quickly, let my hair down from the clip I have been wearing all day, touch up my makeup, and add a deeper shade of lipstick.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I barely resemble the woman who spent the morning arguing with production over punctuation.

I slip into my heels, grab my purse, and head downstairs.

By the time I step outside, Beverly Hills is already beginning to glow beneath the evening light.

I check Julian’s message one more time before getting into the car.

7:00.

I’m going to make it with five minutes to spare.

***

The restaurant is exactly what I expect from Julian: understated from the street, immaculate once I step inside, and polished enough that no one has to advertise how expensive it is.

The maître d’ looks up from the reservation stand as I approach and smiles immediately.

“Ms. Callahan. Mr. Blackwell is already waiting for you.”

“Of course he is,” I say.

The man’s smile deepens slightly.

“Right this way.”

I expect him to lead me toward the main dining room, but instead he guides me past it, through a quieter corridor lined with dark wood and soft lighting. We pass a glass wine room, then another set of doors that open toward the back of the property.

That is when I slow down.

The private courtyard beyond them is completely secluded from the restaurant. Candlelight flickers across one long wall, low arrangements of white flowers and greenery frame a beautifully set table, and soft music plays somewhere out of sight. The evening air is warm, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the garden.

I look at the maître d’.

“Is this where I’m supposed to be?”

“Yes, Ms. Callahan.”

He gestures toward the courtyard.

“Mr. Blackwell asked that you have complete privacy this evening.”

That does not answer my question nearly as well as he thinks it does.

I step farther inside and can see that there is only one table and two place settings. But then I notice a third glass.

I stop.

Before I can make sense of it, a familiar voice cuts through the music.

“Mommy!”

I turn. Theo comes running toward me from the far side of the garden in a tiny black tuxedo, white shirt, and bow tie that is already sitting slightly crooked around his neck.