Chapter 3

​After treating my scrapes, soaking in the tub, and ordering Chinese food delivery, I sat on my large hotel sofa alone. The sky outside had turned very dark, and rain began to fall.

​I tied my slightly loose bathrobe and stared blankly at the TV across from me. For the last hour, my head had been busy trying to guess who my savior was. Well, since I couldn't guess his name, at least I could guess his profession.

​With his firm, intimidating voice and face, he was likely a young banker. He didn't look much older than me—maybe in his 30s? But there was something in those blue eyes that made him look like he wasn't just in his 30s.

​I bit the corner of my lip, furrowing my brow, until a knock interrupted my thoughts. I walked to the hotel room door and opened it. A bellboy stood there holding my delivery and a black box. I gave him the money for the delivery along with a tip, then took the Chinese food I had ordered.

​"Miss Heather? This is for you as well," he said, handing over the black box he was carrying.

​"For me?" I stared at the box hesitantly. It looked like an expensive Godiva chocolate box, only larger and without a label. "I didn't order this."

​"A man delivered it twenty minutes ago, Miss." He then handed me a paper tucked behind the box. A small envelope with a wax seal.

​I thanked the bellboy and closed the door. My curiosity immediately shifted to the black box. I sat back on the sofa and opened the envelope.

​I hope this one fits you. See you tomorrow, Queen Eleanor.

​My heart skipped a beat as I read the note. He knew where I was staying. My eyes shifted to the black box, and I opened it with trembling hands.

​Inside was a pair of black heels—the exact same ones I had lost today. My mouth hung open as I touched the smooth leather of the shoes. I checked the size: it was exactly my size.

​How did he know my size? And how did he know which hotel I was staying at?

​I set the note on the table and stared at the shoes. I should have been afraid, but instead, I felt a strange warmth in my chest.

​The next morning, I woke up feeling much fresher. I wore the new heels—which fit perfectly—along with a black pencil skirt and a white blouse. I felt like a different person.

​I arrived at the Shaw & Partner building ten minutes early. This time, I didn't stop at the reception desk and went straight to the 15th floor.

​"Good morning, Miss Heather. You look beautiful today," Mrs. Lynch greeted me with a small smile—the first smile I had seen from her.

​"Thank you, Mrs. Lynch," I replied, trying to hide my surprise.

​"Mr. Shaw wants to meet you in his office on the 20th floor. He wants a direct report regarding the audit progress," she continued, her eyes scanning my appearance.

​My heart started racing. "Mr. Shaw? Which one?"

​"Mr. Nicholas Shaw. He is the CEO of this company."

​I nodded, trying to stay calm. Nicholas Shaw. The man Christine said was gay. Well, at least I didn't have to worry about him being "yummy."

​I took the elevator to the 20th floor. The atmosphere here was much quieter and more professional than on the 15th floor. The walls were made of glass, providing an incredible view of Manhattan.

​A female secretary greeted me and asked me to wait for a moment. I sat in a comfortable leather chair, my eyes scanning the room. Everything here looked very expensive and modern.

​"Mr. Shaw is ready to see you now, Miss Heather."

​I stood up and smoothed my skirt before walking toward the large door at the end of the hallway. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

​The room was very large, with a desk facing the window. A man was standing with his back to me, looking out at the view.

​"Good morning, Mr. Shaw. I am Eleanor Heather, the independent auditor for—"

​"I know who you are, Eleanor."

​That voice.

​The man turned around, and my heart almost stopped. It was him. My savior from yesterday.

​He wore a dark blue suit that fit his body perfectly. His blue eyes stared at me with that same intensity, a small smile playing on his lips.

​"You..." I stammered, my brain unable to process what was happening.

​"I believe I haven't officially introduced myself." He walked toward me, stopping just a few inches away. "Nicholas Shaw."

​He reached out his hand, and I reflexively took it. His hand felt warm and strong against mine.

​"You're Nicholas Shaw?" I asked, still in disbelief.

​"In the flesh." He smiled wider, his eyes scanning my face. "And I see the shoes fit you perfectly."

​I looked down at my feet, then back at him. "How did you know my size? And how did you know I was staying at that hotel?"

​He laughed softly—a deep, pleasant sound. "I have my ways, Eleanor. Now, shall we talk about the audit?"

​He gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk. I sat down, trying to regain my professionalism. But it was hard to focus when he was sitting right across from me, his gaze never leaving my face.

​"I've started detailing the cash inflows from Bank Rotterdam, as Mrs. Lynch requested," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

​"Good. I want you to be very thorough. I suspect there's something more than just a simple markup going on," he replied, his expression turning serious.

​We talked about the audit for the next hour. He was very sharp and knowledgeable, asking pointed questions that showed he knew exactly what was going on in his company.

​"I think that's enough for today," he said eventually, leaning back in his chair. "I have a lunch meeting, but I'd like to continue this over dinner tonight."

​"Dinner?" I asked, surprised.

​"Yes. I'll pick you up at your hotel at seven."

​"I—I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Shaw. I'm here to work, and—"

​"It's just dinner, Eleanor. And I'm the one who hired you, so I think I'm allowed to take you to dinner," he interrupted, his voice commanding yet gentle.

​I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. Seven o'clock."

​"I'll see you then, Queen Eleanor."

​I spent the rest of the day in a daze. I couldn't believe I was going to dinner with Nicholas Shaw—the billionaire, the "gay" CEO, and the man who had saved my life.

​I finished my work early and headed back to the hotel. I spent an hour choosing what to wear, finally settling on a simple navy blue dress that Lana had given me. It was elegant but not too flashy.

​At exactly seven o'clock, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find Nicholas standing there, looking even more handsome than he had this morning.

​"You look stunning, Eleanor," he said, his eyes filled with admiration.

​"Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself," I replied, feeling a bit more confident.

​He laughed and led me to the elevator. A black SUV was waiting for us in front of the hotel. He opened the door for me, and we drove off into the Manhattan night.

​The restaurant he took me to was small and intimate, hidden away in a quiet corner of the city. There were no signs outside, and the interior was lit only by candles.

​"I hope you like Italian food," he said as we sat down.

​"I love it," I replied.

​We ordered a bottle of wine and started talking. Not about work, but about our lives, our interests, our dreams. He was easy to talk to, and I found myself opening up to him in a way I never had with anyone else.

​"So, why did you become an auditor?" he asked, leaning forward.

​"I like numbers. They're reliable. They don't lie or cheat," I replied, thinking of Oliver.

​His expression softened. "I'm sorry about what happened with your ex-boyfriend."

​I looked at him in surprise. "How do you know about that?"

​"I told you, I have my ways. And I think he was a fool for letting you go."

​I felt my face heating up. "Thank you."

​We finished our dinner and were just about to leave when I remembered something. "I still owe you for the shoes, Mr. Shaw. Let me know how much they were, and I'll—"

​"Forget the shoes, Eleanor. Consider them a gift from a grateful client."

​"I can't accept them. They're far too expensive, and I'm an auditor—it could be seen as a bribe."

​He laughed. "I assure you, I'm not trying to bribe you. I just wanted to replace what was lost."

​"Still, I'd feel better if I paid you back." I wouldn't be able to buy shoes that expensive, I added in my heart.

​When he didn't reply, I opened the menu in my hand and started browsing the items. No prices were listed, which meant only one thing: everything was expensive.

​I bit my lip, guessing which item was the cheapest. "Have you ordered?" I asked, glancing at him. He was quieter this time, making me even more nervous.

​He just nodded. "Are you ready to order?" he asked, raising his hand to call the waiter. Two seconds later, a waiter appeared beside our table. "Ready, Sir?"

​"Eleanor." His voice broke through my thoughts. I looked up at him again. "What are you thinking about?"

​Without realizing it, I was still biting my lip. "Oh, nothing. Just work. So, are you ready to tell me your name?"

​"I don't know where you work yet."

​I don't even know your name yet!

​I mentioned the name of the accounting firm where I worked. "But I'm currently auditing a client's company. Shaw & Partner," I added.

​A look of surprise crossed his face, and then he furrowed his eyebrows. "You work for me?"

​Huh? My feeling of nervousness slowly turned into a slight unease. "I'm sorry, what..."

​NEXT CHAPTER

Chapter 4

​My eyes blinked once.

​Shaw & Partner.

​Shaw.

​I stared at his face with a foolish expression for a few seconds. "So... what is your name?"

​"Nicholas. I didn't know we were hiring an auditor," he replied, picking up his wine glass and drinking the rest. Giorgio, the waiter, returned with my chamomile tea, refilled the wine in Nicholas's glass, and disappeared again. Meanwhile, my brain was still trying to process the information it had just received. He wasn't a banker, but a lawyer. Nicholas Shaw.

​My God, I was having lunch with my client's boss.

​"...that means you'll only be in Manhattan for a short time?"

​I was only half-listening to his question. "A week. After my audit here is finished, I'll return to San Francisco," I answered hurriedly.

​I watched as the corners of his mouth pulled downward. Is he really gay? Christine's words from a few days ago echoed in my head again.

​"A week," he repeated to himself. Suddenly, the atmosphere became more awkward as he fell silent. Giorgio returned to our table carrying my salad and a steak for Mr. Shaw.

​I stared at the plate of salad with its attractive mix of colors in front of me. A plate of salad that looked expensive. Ugh.

​We ate in silence; he seemed as busy with his thoughts as I was. In this awkward quiet, I could barely taste the salad I was eating. I figured I would buy a burger on the way back to the hotel.

​After lunch, he insisted on driving me back to the office. I wanted to refuse, but considering he was technically my employer for the week, I just accepted it.

​The car ride was just as quiet as the lunch. He stared out the window most of the time, while I focused on my hands in my lap. When we arrived at the building, he turned to me.

​"I'll see you tomorrow, Eleanor," he said, his voice back to that deep, commanding tone.

​I nodded and got out of the car without a word.

​The next few days passed in a blur of spreadsheets and bank statements. I spent most of my time in the small office Mrs. Lynch had provided, digging through the financial records of Shaw & Partner.

​As I worked, I couldn't help but think about Nicholas Shaw. He was nothing like I had imagined. He was intense, brilliant, and—despite the rumors—he didn't seem gay at all. There was a way he looked at me, a certain heat in his eyes that made my skin tingle.

​But I had to stay professional. I was here to do a job, and that job was to find any irregularities in the firm's finances.

​By Thursday evening, I was exhausted. I had been working late every night, trying to meet the deadline I had set for myself. I stared at the rows of numbers on my laptop screen.

​"Just a little more, Ella," I muttered, pushing back the urge to sleep.

​But when my eyes began to burn, I gave up. I shut down my laptop, gathered my things from the desk, and stuffed them into my bag. I practically had to drag my body to the elevator. I leaned my back against the empty elevator wall, watching the numbers blink as it descended from the 15th floor toward the lobby.

​The Shaw & Partner building might be one of the older buildings in Manhattan; from the outside, it looked ancient with its dark red brick. But inside, the modern and elegant interior stood in stark contrast to the exterior. Even the lobby floor used black granite that stayed polished at all times, with a large Shaw & Partner logo centered in the middle of the floor.

​Nicholas Shaw was nothing like I had imagined.

​I checked my watch again; it was 10 PM. I could still stop somewhere on the way home to buy dinner. My mind drifted back to the chocolate mousse I had eaten at lunch; I could still remember the sweet taste mixed with the bitter chocolate, melting in cold softness. My stomach growled a second later. Well, what did I expect? I only had a plate of salad for lunch.

​The elevator doors finally opened in the lobby, breaking my train of thought. Before I could even look up from my watch, a voice beat me to it.

​"Eleanor?"

​NEXT CHAPTER

My heart skipped a beat as I heard his voice. I lifted my head to gaze into his dark blue eyes, and his eyebrows raised in slight surprise.

I had never seen someone as handsome as Nicholas Shaw.

He wore a more formal suit than usual-shirt, vest, and jacket-each layer adding to his charm. His cufflinks shimmered in the lobby lights as he pressed the elevator button to prevent it from closing. His black suit matched the dark blue tie, perfectly complementing his eye color.

I continued staring as he called me for the second time.

"Oh." I stepped out of the elevator, standing in front of him with a hint of awkwardness. He seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Hey." I forgot my formal demeanor instantly.

"Are you still here?" he asked, corners of his mouth turning downward.

"I already mentioned I have work to finish..." I mumbled, my eyes dropping from his face to the top button of his vest. His perfume, a subtle mix of mint and something expensive, lingered in the air. Not nauseating like Oliver's cologne, but a scent of luxury.

I bit the inside of my cheek before speaking again, "Did you just come from the charity event?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer. He nodded slightly.

Suddenly, I could feel the pulse in my neck quicken, my right hand moving to touch my neck. A specific area felt warmer than usual-where the scar was.

"I have to get something from my office, so I came back. I thought you'd be working from your hotel," he said, glancing at his watch before looking back at me. "I'll escort-"

"Nick."

The pulse in my scarred neck quickened. My eyes reflexively shifted to his brother standing behind him. The resemblance was unmistakable, but this one seemed more laid-back with slightly disheveled hair and a matching eye color. Gregory Shaw.

"Who's she?" he asked, hands in his jeans' pockets, not waiting for an answer as he continued, "Have you got it? I need to leave tomorrow morning."

Wait a minute. Slowly, my brain started working, forcing me to remember where I heard this voice before.

Mr. Shaw took a key from his jacket pocket and tossed it to his brother, who caught it casually.

"Get it yourself, Greg. I'll escort Miss Heather back to her hotel." Mr. Shaw replied. He held onto the key and nodded but his smile widened upon hearing his brother's teasing words.

"Ohhhhh... Miss Heather, huh?" he teased, walking into the elevator. His dark blue eyes shifted from Mr. Shaw to me, this time really looking at me.

We were just three steps apart, and I could see him clearly. Suddenly, his wide smile faded, replaced by a strange expression for a split second. Then the elevator doors closed.

Do I know him? I blinked several times in front of the closed elevator doors. Then I realized, it wasn't just my neck's pulse racing; it was my heart too.

"Eleanor?" Mr. Shaw's voice forced me to redirect my attention to him. He stared into my eyes for a moment before lowering his gaze slightly. I followed his gaze and pulled my hand quickly; I hadn't realized I was gripping his jacket since earlier. "Oh. Sorry, Mr. Shaw-"

"Do you know him?" he asked with an expressionless face.

"What?"

"Do you know Greg?"

I furrowed my brow, trying to remember. "I think I've seen him somewhere." I replied half unsure. "Ah, I need to get back to my hotel-"

"I'll escort you." He said before I could finish my sentence.

"But-"

"It's already 10 PM, Miss Heather. I won't let you go back alone." He interrupted, looking at his Rolex.

"My hotel-"

"I know where your hotel is." His blue eyes looked at me again, challenging me to refuse.

"My hotel is only a five-minute walk, Mr. Shaw." I said, trying to hold back my frustration. Well, actually, I'd rather throw myself at him.

"In that case, we'll walk." He replied, taking a step and turning back when I didn't move from my spot. "Miss Heather?"

Ugh. I walked towards him, and he turned his body slightly. "You're quite persuasive, Mr. Shaw." I muttered with a hint of formality and sarcasm. We walked through the lobby towards the bustling Manhattan streets.

"Used to getting what I want, Miss Heather." He replied in a low voice, making my stomach flutter. I ignored his last words and shifted my gaze to the lanterns being set up in a corner. Oliver mentioned something about a festival in Manhattan.

"Is there an event happening here?" I asked, pointing to the lanterns.

He turned to look at me. "Halloween. Some blocks will be closed for half a day."

"Oh." I nodded slightly while still looking at the lanterns. Some were shaped like pumpkins and bats. I had never seen a festival before, except for school festivals.

"Do you want to see it?"

I shrugged, "I have to go back this weekend." I replied, meeting his gaze. His raised eyebrows indicated surprise.

"Are you sure you only need a week? I can ask Mrs. Lynch to extend your work period."

I slowed down, his attention now fully on me. "You don't like Manhattan?"

"Oh no, Manhattan has the best bagel restaurants. I... just want to go home." I shifted my gaze from his eyes that seemed to penetrate into me. I wasn't surprised if he could make prosecutors in court surrender with just his gaze.

"Do you have someone waiting for you at home?" His tone was slightly strange this time.

I smiled again, "No. No one. I just... feel safer at home." I blurted out without thinking. "I mean... I don't really like being alone in a foreign place." I quickly added.

I didn't want to be alone after that night; his voice haunted every nightmare. I reflexively touched my neck, the place of the scar, with my fingertips. The skin around it felt a bit warmer. Odd, usually, this scar was fine.

"You're not alone, Eleanor." He murmured in a low voice. I just laughed nervously. We walked in silence for the rest of the way to my hotel, not the awkward silence like at lunch earlier, but a comfortable one. When we arrived at the lobby of my hotel, it started raining again. Mr. Shaw escorted me to the hotel lift, and after wishing me goodnight, he walked away.

"Wait-"

He turned back.

"I have some umbrellas in my room." I mumbled awkwardly, "It's still raining outside, and... and you don't have an umbrella. So..." Before I started rambling nonsensically, I shut my mouth.

Mr. Shaw smiled slightly and walked into the lift with me. The scent of his expensive cologne mixed with mint was clearly noticeable from such a close distance. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest that I could hear it in my ears.

Ugh. Ella, what did you just do?

The lift doors opened on the hotel floor, and I walked ahead into the hotel corridor, then stopped in front of my room. I rummaged through my bag for my key and opened my hotel room door. I stood there hesitatingly, wondering if I should invite him in.

"Um, just wait a moment." I muttered, inviting him inside. As soon as we entered, the last ringtone echoed from my hotel phone. A second later, a voicemail played. I let it play while searching for the umbrella I bought yesterday. Mr. Shaw leaned against the wardrobe in my hotel room, hands folded across his chest, observing me.

"... Ella? I've been trying to reach your cellphone all day. Are you working late again? Don't go home alone, okay? I don't want you to be attacked again. Call me as soon as possible. By the way, how was lunch with Mr. I-don't-know-his-name-because-he's-too-handsome? Do you know his name now? Call me-"

I dropped the umbrella I was holding and jumped to grab the hotel phone handle before Lana's sentence ended. I pressed it to my ear.

"Ella?" Lana's voice sounded puzzled from the other end. "Are you there?"

"Yes!" I felt my face reddening; I couldn't look at Mr. Shaw now, so I stood with my back to him. "Yeah, I just got back."

"Are you working late again? I've been trying to reach your new number all day. By the way, Oliver asked for your cellphone number for your manager. Should I give it to him?"

"I haven't charged my cellphone... Oliver? I already gave my number to Mr. Newman. Why does he need it again?" I mumbled, furrowing my brow.

"I don't know... Well, what about your lunch?"

I glanced briefly at Mr. Shaw, "I'll call you later, Lana. Okay?"

"What? I'm dying to know about your savior all day."

"I can't talk right now." I whispered urgently.

"Why-" Lana paused for a moment as if thinking, and two seconds later, she screamed so loud over the phone that I had to close my eyes, "Is he there? Is he in your hotel room?" she asked, half screaming.

"Goodbye, Lana. I'll call you later." I replied without answering her question, then hung up. I took a deep breath and turned back to Mr. Shaw, his expression unchanged since earlier, his blue eyes still watching me. I tried to force a smile, then grabbed the dropped umbrella.

"My friend is a bit... overly dramatic." I raised my hand to point to the phone before dropping it by my side again, "She's a bit... much."

"Thank you for escorting me, Mr. Shaw." I murmured quickly, handing him my umbrella. He nodded slightly, and I escorted him to the front of my hotel room, then he turned suddenly, almost making me collide with him. My heart raced again due to the close proximity; he suddenly bent down until his face was just inches from mine. I could see the dark blue color of his intimidating eyes clearly.

"Tell your friend... The name of the man is Nicholas Shaw." He whispered; his breath, carrying the scent of mint and champagne, brushed against my cheek. I could feel my face redden again. Then he pulled away.

"Goodnight, Miss Heather." He murmured, smiling, and walked away, leaving me standing frozen in front of my hotel room.

The night was filled with the sound of raindrops tapping on the window, and my heart echoed the rhythm of the rain, pounding in my chest.