I don't doubt any of the suspicions I have about Makai and this whole mission. Not in the least.
But when he dips his croissant into the chocolate milkshake, takes a bite, and slowly licks his lips before closing his eyes and savouring every layer of sugar and butter like it's the most divine thing he's ever tasted.
I can't help but think I got the wrong guy.
He wears faded light-blue jeans and a beige polo shirt that hugs his chest just right. White Air Jordans, spotless and new, complete the look. He seems so... normal. Like a guy out running errands. Not the Makai Elori Huxley who graces the covers of business magazines and appears in charity gala spreads.
The interior of the café feels like something lifted out of a dream. Soft natural light pours through the wide glass panes, casting golden warmth across rustic wooden tables. Plants hang in woven baskets from the ceiling, their vines curling lazily around the corners of nearby bookshelves. Pastel green walls offer a muted backdrop, glowing softly beneath vintage light bulbs strung above us.
Makai finishes his milkshake and pushes the empty cup aside, brushing a napkin over his mouth. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed casually over his chest, looking completely at home in this cozy sunlit world.
I smile. But I shouldn't.
I shouldn't be feeling anything remotely pleasant toward someone who might be a two-faced, scheming asshole. I have to remember—I'm playing a role. This is my job. And yet, I'm the one stuck in the dark here.
His eyes meet mine again. This time, I don't look away. I hold his gaze, searching for something buried beneath the surface. His eyes remind me of dark chocolate, rich and deep, with a bitterness that doesn't show up right away, but lingers after it settles on your tongue.
I'm Alice, tumbling down the rabbit hole, not knowing where the fall ends. And I can't seem to stop myself.
Vaughn is vague with his suspicions. So I'm left to guess. And as far as I know, uncertainty is what kills the spirit.
"You look lovely," Makai says suddenly.
It's the first compliment he's given me, and it feels... genuine.
I'm wearing a baby blue body-con dress paired with a cropped denim jacket that adds a bit of edge to the look. I chose white sneakers for comfort, stepping outside my usual preference for black-on-black.
"Thank you," I say softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "You don't look bad yourself. Though it's the first I've seen you this casual."
He chuckles, eyes bright. "I'm glad you think so."
I glance down, trying to hide the way my cheeks flush. It takes a few moments for me to gather myself enough to meet his eyes again.
Why am I acting like a teenager who isn't used to male attention? I refuse to accept the effect this man has on me. I laugh lightly, about to ask why he invited me here, especially on my day off but he beats me to it.
"I know it's your day off," he says, sitting up a little straighter. "That's why I suggested coming here. I wanted you to be relaxed when I told you we're about to lose an important client."
I fight not to raise an eyebrow. I know this should concern me, but I can't bring myself to care that deeply. Still, my face tends to give too much away.
It's been almost a month since I started at Huxley Estates, a multi-billion-dollar company that somehow doesn't feel real when I'm sitting here sipping coffee like I belong.
To be honest, too much work makes my brain ache. There's a reason I dropped out of college. But as Makai's assistant, I barely break a sweat. I prep what he needs, answer what's necessary, and stay out of the way. He doesn't pressure me. Whatever I do seems to be enough for him.
Outside of that, I honestly have no idea what's going on.
"Really?" I gasp, widening my eyes in mock surprise. "Why?"
He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I don't know. Everything was going perfectly. And now... it's like he's second-guessing the whole deal."
Strangely, I'm more invested than I expect to be. It's almost like I already know what he's going to say next.
Makai scratches the back of his neck, eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Unless he got a better offer," he murmurs.
My thoughts stutter. I try to keep the emotion off my face, but the puzzle pieces snap together too fast.
I told Tylon about this. A casual conversation that clearly wasn't casual at all.
"But the deal was private," Makai says, almost to himself. "Secure. You were the only outsider involved, and that was just to make the presentation." He lifts his gaze to meet mine. "Unless someone else got wind of it."
He's suspicious.
I don't flinch. Don't deny it. That would only make me look guilty. Instead, I try to redirect.
"You know how cautious people get when they're about to close on their dream properties," I say with a small shrug, careful not to fidget. "Cold feet. Second thoughts. It probably has nothing to do with the company."
But under the table, my leg is bouncing uncontrollably. My anxiety is spiking, crawling up my throat.
I can't believe Tylon would do something this petty. I wasn't even thinking when I mentioned it to him. I didn't think he'd use it against me.
Makai narrows his eyes. "No, I don't think that's it," he says slowly. "Did you tell someone?"
I shake my head, tilting it like I'm searching my memory. "I can't remember if I did. And even if so, my friends wouldn't care enough to act on it."
A bold-faced lie. But a necessary one.
He closes his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply. When they open again, there's a flicker of something colder there—disappointment, maybe even betrayal.
"Allesha, you're working for Huxley Estates. As my assistant. I'm sure you know I have enemies. Your job in itself screams confidential. It's common sense to keep your mouth shut."
The words hit sharp. I bite my tongue to stop the snark that rises to the surface. Now's not the time.
The veins on his forehead pulse as he stands abruptly. He motions to the waitress and reaches for his wallet, fist clenched tight at his side as he pays the bill without looking back at me.
"I have to go," he mutters, turning on his heel.
I stare down at my untouched ham and cheese sandwich and my half-full cup of coffee. That went well, I sigh to myself.
Nice move, Tylon. Fucking great.