Outside the diner, a car pulled into the parking lot, driven by a young woman. At first glance, she looked to be in her twenties, her tanned skin glowing naturally, with short, curly black hair. She wore a simple yet flattering outfit: tight black pants that highlighted her curves and a striped white blouse that accentuated her rather generous chest. A simple choice, but it suited her perfectly.
The engine was still running, so she quickly turned off the ignition. She hurried to fix her hair, glancing into the rearview mirror as if it were her personal mirror. Finally, she reached for her lipstick, tracing the outline of her plump lips.
Meanwhile, Shauwn kept working until mid-afternoon. He was done serving tables and had now moved to the kitchen, helping out to ease the workload of the cook. Four people in total worked at the diner, including him: two in the kitchen, two servers, plus Wallace, the owner. The reason Shauwn often helped serve the first customers was simply because he lived with the owner, so he was always there at opening hours.
"Claire!!" shouted Wallace.
"Mr. Wallace!" replied a cheerful feminine voice.
Claire rushed over to him, clearly happy to see him again and not bothering to hide it.
"I told you, no 'Mister' for you. Just Wallace is fine. You just got here?"
"I know, but I can't help myself." She laughed nervously before continuing. "Yes, I just parked outside. And Shauwn? Is he here?"
The old man gave her a wink at the mention of Shauwn.
"Don't worry, Claire. I'll send him over right away, all nicely wrapped with your usual order."
At his words, a faint blush crept onto her tanned cheeks, turning them slightly pink.
"Ughh, that's not what I meant at all."
Claire Devont was young, beautiful, brilliant, smart—and very demanding. When she wanted something, she always made sure she got it. And this time, the object of her desire was Shauwn… Shauwn Arkinas.
She wasn't from Silver Creeks, and she didn't live there either. Work had brought her here.
Claire was an auctioneer and an art dealer. A few months ago, she had discovered a remarkable visual artist in one of the city's old neighborhoods, someone whose works sold like hotcakes. That's how she had first met him. Locals had told her about the best place to eat, and the next moment, it was a handsome young man with black hair and piercing brown eyes who brought food to her table.
The very moment Shauwn looked at her, she had felt stripped bare, almost powerless. Something intense burst from her chest, her heart racing faster and faster. For her, it was love at first sight—there was no other explanation.
From that day forward, Claire tried everything to get closer to him. Sometimes she played the part of the naive, innocent, sweet girl; other times, she tried to engage him in conversation whenever she came to town.
Unfortunately, nothing had gone the way she hoped. Shauwn was friendly, polite, even considerate, but at best they had remained acquaintances—and not even close friends.
Shauwn put up walls, and Claire broke through them in an instant. Yet despite her efforts, she felt he was still unreachable. It was as if a translucent veil always separated her from Shauwn. She only needed one crack in that barrier to slip into his circle, but he showed no sign of weakness.
Today, she wasn't playing the naive girl anymore. Claire was ready to confront him. She quickly found an empty table near a window overlooking the street and sat down.
Moments later, the man in question arrived. He looked surprised—he hadn't expected her to be there. He should've guessed when he saw the familiar order, but he hadn't paid attention.
Truth be told, he had been trying to avoid her. The reason was simple: she had invited him more than twice to her gallery openings, and each time he had found an excuse not to go. The first time, he said he was too busy, but to make up for it he promised he would attend the second.
He had really intended to go. But that very night, the Nopar company had decided to make its move, and he had to deal with it before things got out of hand.
"Here you go, Claire. Your order. Enjoy. I have to go."
"Wow, not even a hello… so cold."
"I'd love to chat, but I'm busy right now."
"Busy with what?"
"Working."
"Well, I'm here for work too, but I'm taking time off to see you."
"I didn't know eating counted as work. Look, I really would like to talk, but like I said—I'm not free." He turned to head back into the kitchen.
"Do you have to avoid me now that you've seen me?"
Shauwn tensed, his back still turned.
"I'm not avoiding you. I'm just working. I can't do two things at once."
"Just a little of your time, please…" Her tone was heavy yet sincere.
A long silence followed, then he sighed in defeat.
"Alright… I guess I owe you that much. But make it quick."
"You weren't there, even though you promised me you would come."
"I'm sorry. We had a busy night here."
"A busy night? Even though we planned that a whole week in advance?"
"It was unexpected. Claire, I work full-time in a small-town diner that's practically open 24/7. I can't predict when the place gets swamped and they need all hands on deck."
Claire cut a piece of steak, looked at Shauwn, then sighed before speaking more seriously.
"Shauwn, I know you know what I want from you."
"And I know you know you won't get it."
The signs were obvious, and Shauwn saw them in Claire. He wasn't foolish enough to ignore a woman's feelings for a man.
In the end, he decided to leave things as they were. Eventually, she'd get tired and give up. He thought that was best—for her and for him.
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to. And I can't…"
Shauwn wasn't ready, and he didn't think he ever would be. There were too many factors to consider.
"So even if you wanted to, you couldn't? Don't you think that's a huge contradiction?"
"…"
"Why? I want to know."
He didn't want to answer. Not only because he had no desire to, but also because it would force him to recall memories he wanted to bury. Instead, he just turned his head and looked over at Wallace from a distance.
Claire didn't understand the connection, but she suspected his decision had something to do with Wallace. She didn't push further—but she didn't give up either.
"One chance…"
"What?!"
"Give me a chance, Shauwn."