The car ride back to Aurum Scents was quiet, but a good quiet. Like after a storm passes. The contract was signed. It was over. Lina stared out the window, trying to hold onto the feeling, trying to push the memory of his voice out of her head.
When they pulled up to the building, it was chaos, but the good kind. The whole loading dock was alive.
Big, plain trucks were lined up like giant metal soldiers. Workers moved in a steady chain, carrying boxes from the Aurum warehouse into the trucks' open backs. Each box had a tiny 'Oblivion' logo stamped on the side. This was it. This was the first physical wave of 'Oblivion' leaving their nest, being shipped to Vega's distribution centers.
Lina didn't hesitate. She dropped her bag by the entrance and joined the line, grabbing a box. It was heavy. For the next little while, she just moved boxes. The physical act felt good. Simple. She didn't have to think about Daniel's cold eyes or the bathroom door slamming shut. No confusing mess in her head. This was just work. There was just the thump of the box in the truck, the ache in her arms. It felt good.
Carter stood by the main doors, watching the operation with his arms crossed, a small, satisfied smile on his face. When the last truck door was slammed shut and sealed, and the convoy began to rumble away, Lina wiped her dusty hands on her already-ruined dress—sparing Lucas's jacket—and walked over to him.
"Congratulations, sir," she said. It felt right to say it here, now, after helping to send the last box off.
A genuine, tired smile softened his features. "You too. Congratulations to us all. We did it, Lina. A hell of a thing." He paused.
"I'm taking the whole team to dinner tonight. A proper celebration. My treat."
Her heart lifted for a second—and then immediately sank. The whole team. Right. Of course. It wasn't a date. What was she thinking. She smiled, the disappointment a small, private thing. "Sure. Sounds great."
He gestured for her to go inside first, a gentlemanly move. A small gesture that shouldn't have meant anything but it made her face feel warm. "Ladies first."
She murmured a thanks, her cheeks warming, and slipped past him into the cool, sterile air of the building, and headed straight for her office.
With 'Oblivion' gone, her desk was dead. She shuffled some papers, pretended to be busy, and by five o'clock she gave up. Fuck it. She was going home.
It was only in the quiet of her apartment that she realized she had forgotten something. Oh, shit. Dinner. Right. She had no idea where it was. He had just invited her and must have forgotten to mention the place. She'd forgotten to ask.
What was she going to do now? She was staring at her phone, agonizing, when it buzzed twice in quick succession.
The first text was from Caleb, a junior analyst from the lab. Hey, do you have the dinner deets for tonight? I totally forgot.
She almost laughed with relief. Okay, so she wasn't the only one who didn't know. She started typing back: No, I was wondering the same—
Before she could finish, another notification banner slid across the top of her screen. She could read the preview.
It was a text from an unknown number. An address: The Luxe Bistro. 7 PM. Private room Saffron.
Her thumbs froze. Lina felt like she'd heard of that place before. The name rang a faint bell in the back of her mind. She opened a browser tab and typed it in.
The first search result confirmed it. A chill that had nothing to do with the room temperature trickled down her spine. The Luxe Bistro. It was the impossibly expensive, impossible-to-get-into type. It was in the part of town where the sidewalks looked cleaner and the air somehow smelled more expensive. And a part of the Viggo Group's Luxury Dining Collection. Wow. After today, the idea of stepping into another one of Daniel's domains made her skin prickle with dread. It felt like a taunt.
The last time she'd been in a fancy restaurant, a woman she'd never met had slapped her and called her a slut in front of everyone. She felt reluctant to go, fearing some kind of sudden attack like that again. Maybe this time it would be a murderer or something.
But then, sanity intervened. Carter would be there. The whole team would be there. It was a celebratory dinner in a private room. He had booked it. It was just a fancy restaurant. Nothing could really go wrong when you eat with colleagues… right? Wasn't she just being paranoid? She'd already said yes. Backing out now would look weird, or ungrateful. She had to show up for Carter, for her team, and probably for herself.
She deleted her unfinished text to Caleb and retyped, copying the address. He'd already sent a follow-up: ?? You there? She sent the address, then added: See you there.
Getting ready felt… weird. She stood in front of her closet, pushing hangers, and a heavy feeling settled in her chest. It wasn't about the clothes. It was about where they came from.
Almost everything she owned—the sweaters, the jeans, the dresses, even the undies—was bought by her mum. Every time she went home, her mum would drag her shopping, cluck about her being too skinny, and buy her a bunch of stuff Lina would never pick herself. But she wore it anyway, because it was free and it was there. Since leaving home at sixteen, she couldn't remember the last time she'd walked into a boutique and bought something for herself, just because she liked it. Her mum had bought everything buyable, if that even made sense.
She'd been wearing her mother's clothes lately, and tonight wasn't going to be an exception. Lina selected one of those pieces again: a dress of deep burgundy velvet. It was simple in cut, sleeveless with a modest neckline, but it hugged her curves and ended a daring few inches above her knees. The fabric was lush and rich, making her feel both dressed-up and strangely vulnerable. It was a little revealing, but in a classic, intentional way. She looked at her reflection and a sudden, sharp longing for her mother hit her. I need to see her soon.
She did her makeup with extra care, then braided two small sections of hair at her temples, pinning them back, and let the rest fall in loose waves. A final, steadying breath, and she left.
The Luxe Bistro was, predictably, an hour's journey from her place. It was all muted gold light and whispered conversations. A hostess with a smile as polished as the brass fittings led her through the hushed, golden-lit main dining room and down a corridor to a private room marked Saffron.
Pushing the door open, the noise of her colleagues washed over her. The team was already there, seated around a long table, glasses in hand. Carter sat at the head, deep in conversation with the head of R&D.
"Lina! You made it!"
"Sorry I'm late," she said, offering a general wave. The only empty seat was, ironically, just one chair away from Carter. She slid into it, giving him a small, apologetic smile. He nodded warmly.
Carter ordered for the table—dishes with French names, wines she couldn't pronounce. Soon the table was covered with food that looked too beautiful to eat. Toasts started immediately. To the team! To success! To the fucking future!
Lina raised her glass. The wine was dark and smooth and went down too easily. Her tolerance was, and always had been, absolute shit. After two glasses, the room got softer. After three, everything faded into a background hum. She knew she was tipping over from buzzed to wasted, so she clamped down, going quiet. She rested her head in her hand, nodding, letting out a vague "Mhmm," whenever someone said her name.
But the room kept getting warmer. The laughter got louder, pounding in her head. The walls seemed to breathe. She couldn't feel her face. Her thoughts were scrambled. She needed to get out. Now.
She stood up so fast her chair scraped the floor with a shriek. Everyone stopped talking and looked at her.
"Carter needs… me," she blurted out, the words thick and slurry. She waved a clumsy hand toward the door. "Outside. He… told me… to meet him. I… can't be late."
The entire table swiveled to look at Carter, who was still seated right there. When? And how? Even Carter looked a little shocked—he was literally right here, hadn't called her or anything—but before anyone could process the drunken lie, she was stumbling for the door, her velvet dress swishing as she fell out into the cool, quiet hallway.
Inside the room, a confused silence hung in the air. All eyes shifted back to Carter.
He excused himself quickly. He knew that glassy look in her eyes. He followed her out, but by the time he reached the corridor, she was already stepping into the elevator. He broke into a brisk walk.
"Lina, wait!" he called out.
She turned, saw him, and offered a wobbly, innocent smile just as the gilt doors slid shut with a soft, final ding.
Carter reached the elevator bank a second too late. He stared at the descending numbers, running a hand through his hair with a sigh of frustration. It was obvious she was drunk.