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As we walked towards Alexander's car, I couldn't help but steal glances at him, longing to spend more time with him.
Finally, we reached Alexander's car. He hugged us tightly as he bid farewell. The embrace with Allan was warm and brief, but when it was my turn, his hug lingered for a few seconds longer. My heart raced, and I couldn't help but hope that this meant something more.
But I kept my composure and said, "Take care, Alexander. You work too hard for someone who’s already richer than Midas."
Allan laughed at that.
"I’ve been telling him the same thing, but he never listens."
"We'll do the interview later," Alexander said. I nodded as he got into his car and waved goodbye.
"Do you mind going with me to the gallery? I have to sign off a painting for a customer." Allen asked.
"Sure," I replied.
The ride to the gallery was quiet. The guilt of all the lying was beginning to get at me.
Allan kept asking if I was okay, but I gave him the excuse that I was exhausted from work and needed a good night’s sleep.
The gallery buzzed with life around me, but I felt strangely detached.
The vibrant artwork, the hum of conversation, and the flickering lights seemed to blur together, fading into the background as I was submerged in my thoughts.
Allan moved around the gallery, greeting a few patrons admiring his artwork and guiding the customer to his office.
Thoughts of Alexander filled me. It left me feeling bewildered and vulnerable, wondering what it meant for our future.
Did he care about me, or was he just married to his work?
He didn't need more money; he was already a billionaire. What did he want from me, and what did I want from him?
My phone's sudden beep jolted me out of my trance. I fumbled in my clutch purse, retrieving it to find a text from Alexander. He apologized for his hasty departure and promised to make it up to me with a dinner the following night, anywhere I chose.
A warm smile tugged at my lips as I read his message. I was mentally sifting through my wardrobe, contemplating which new dresses I’d gotten during my shopping spree in California would make the best impression.
Before fully immersing myself in these thoughts, Allan's voice brought me back to the present.
"Elizabeth, do you want me to drive you home?" he asked, his brown eyes searching my face for an answer.
"Yes, please," I replied with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Allan."
"Great," Allan said, relief washing over his features. "Just wait a moment while I get my keys."
As Allan disappeared into his office, I found my gaze wandering. My thoughts had returned to Alexander and the enigmatic allure he exuded.
What did he see in me?
Why did he want to spend time with me?
And why did he have to be so mysterious about his work?
Allan's return interrupted my thoughts, and I forced myself to look at him, avoiding eye contact.
"Someone opened a window in my office," he said casually as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks. Did he realize I had been in his office the previous evening? My mind raced to devise an explanation that didn't involve the truth.
"Oh?" I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "That's strange. Maybe it was a mistake."
