table.
“Caldwell.”
Ethan released her.
The man smiled.
“And this must be your date.”
“My assistant,” Ethan said.
“Of course.”
Catherine wanted to disappear.
Instead, she became the most memorable person at dinner.
Several executives spent twenty minutes discussing projections for a waterfront development.
Catherine listened.
Tried to follow.
Failed.
Finally she raised one hand slightly.
“So basically, you’re spending a very large amount of money based on research, calculations, and the hope that people behave roughly the way you predict?”
One man blinked.
“That is oversimplified.”
“Good.”
She nodded.
“Because it sounds exactly like baking from an online recipe.”
The oldest investor laughed.
Catherine continued.
“You measure carefully. Follow instructions. Trust the process.”
She lifted one shoulder.
“And sometimes the cake still collapses.”
Another executive leaned back.
“She’s not entirely wrong.”
“Thank you.”
Catherine smiled.
“My qualifications include several collapsed cakes and one shelving unit.”
By dessert, the entire table was laughing.
Ethan barely touched his food.
He was too busy watching her.
Then Brooke arrived.
Red dress.
Perfect hair.
Perfect timing.
“What a coincidence.”
Catherine looked at Ethan.
