Ross leaned back in his chair, studying her without an ounce of hesitation.
His big presence was overwhelming, but his tone carried a casual ease, as though what he was about to say was the most natural thing in the world.
"So," Ross began, his lips curving into a confident smile. "I’m quite interested in you, Carrie."
Her heart skipped a beat.
He let the words linger for just a second before cutting straight to the point, his directness sharp enough to make her breath catch.
"What’s it going to take for to get your number?"
He didn’t waste ti with small talk, with empty pleasantries.
He wasn’t like the boys at school who tried awkwardly to impress her with cheap tricks or clumsy flirting.
Ross Oakley was a man who knew what he wanted, and when he wanted it, he asked without fear.
Carrie froze, her mind spinning.
The man across from her wasn’t just anybody—he was Ross Oakley.
Dozens of won more beautiful than her had already fallen for him, won with fa, talent, and status she could never match. And yet, he was here, asking her for sothing so personal.
Her hand tightened around her phone inside her bag, her fingers trembling ever so slightly.
"Don’t you already have dozens of wives? Why do you keep on adding more?" Carrie finally asked once she’d managed to gather herself after nearly five deep breaths.
Her voice ca out softer than she intended, not sharp, not accusatory—just the raw edge of honest curiosity.
She wasn’t angry. How could she be?
She knew she was beautiful—people had told her all her life.
Her best friend, the boy she’d grown up next door to, was the only one oblivious to that fact.
Perhaps because they’d shared too many childhood monts together, perhaps because to him she was just "Carrie," the girl who played basketball in the driveway and ate popsicles on the porch.
But Ross Oakley wasn’t blind. He saw her.
And that alone was enough to set her pulse racing.
Ross leaned forward, resting his elbows casually on the table, his gaze never leaving hers.
It was unnerving and magnetic at the sa ti.
His lips curved into a slow smile, the kind that disard people before they even realized it.
"I don’t know," Ross said, his tone playful but deliberate. "Maybe I’m vain, and I just like having beautiful won around ." His eyes swept over her slowly, without sha, before locking back onto hers.
"Or maybe I simply can’t help myself whenever I see soone like you, Carrie—soone who shines without even realizing it."
Carrie’s cheeks grew hot.
She dropped her eyes, but it was useless—she could still feel his gaze pressing on her skin like heat.
For a mont she forgot where she was, the noise of the fast food place fading into the background until there was only him.
Ross leaned back slightly, as if to give her space, but his smirk only deepened.
"Maybe the real reason doesn’t even matter. What matters is this..." His voice lowered, calm yet filled with an unshakable weight. "Today, I’m walking away with your number."
The certainty in his tone made Carrie’s heart thump against her ribs.
It wasn’t arrogance—it was conviction.
Ross Oakley was a man who set his eyes on sothing and made it his.
He was the type of man who bent the world to his will, who won championships, conquered businesses, built empires... and now, it felt terrifyingly like he’d decided to conquer her too.
She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breath.
"You... you don’t even know ," Carrie whispered, though her voice trembled.
Ross chuckled, deep and confident.
"That’s what makes it interesting. I’ve seen millions of faces, Carrie. I’ve had won throw themselves at , won with beauty, fa, and power. But you—" he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were studying a rare gem—"you’re different. You’re not chasing , and that makes want to chase you."
Her chest tightened, torn between disbelief and sothing she didn’t want to na.
Ross Oakley was larger than life, a man who had everything she thought was beyond reach.
And yet, in this mont, it felt like all of his attention was focused solely on her.
Carrie shifted in her seat, her hands clutching the edge of the table.
"And if I say no?" she asked, her voice steadier this ti though her heart was racing.
Ross didn’t even flinch. He smiled again, but this one was slower, darker, filled with an unspoken promise. "Then I’ll just have to prove myself to you until you say yes."
The words lingered in the air, heavy with aning.
For the first ti, Carrie wondered if she could actually resist him—or if she even wanted to.
"Let’s see," Carrie replied cautiously, her lips pressing into a thin line. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either.
And true to his words, Ross didn’t give up easily. Persistence seed to be woven into his very nature.
He kept talking to Carrie, his voice smooth, his words sharp yet playful, always finding the perfect balance between confidence and warmth.
Within ten minutes, he had managed to draw a smile from her pretty face, softening the guarded expression she wore at the beginning.
Another ten minutes passed, and Carrie was laughing—genuinely laughing—at Ross’s jokes, her earlier nervousness replaced by an unfamiliar but thrilling sense of comfort in his presence.
The minutes slipped away faster than Carrie realized.
By the ti their unexpected encounter in the little fast food place ca to an end, Ross had accomplished exactly what he said he would.
Not only did he leave with Carrie’s number, but he had left with a piece of her attention, perhaps even her heart.
When they stepped outside together, the night air felt lighter, almost different.
Ross slipped his hands into his hoodie pockets and glanced at her with that sa self-assured smile.
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