"But if I asked you out, would you say no?" Stan asked...
Sarah didn’t look up. But after a beat, she shook her head, small and quick, almost shy enough to miss.
"No," she said quietly. "I wouldn’t."
Infact, in the contrary, She’d been hoping he would ask. She realized that now, with a clarity that startled her. Sowhere between the ten million dollars and the thirty million and the quiet, unshakable way he’d stood up to Liam in front of everyone, the question had already answered itself inside her chest. She’d just been waiting for him to give her the opening.
anwhile, Stan leaned back in his chair, letting himself savor the mont.
’Five tis rebate. A hundred and fifty million in the bank. And the girl.’
’Not a bad evening’s work.’
He almost wanted to laugh out loud, but he kept his expression composed, casual, warm, the picture of a young man who’d simply done the decent thing for soone he cared about. There was no sense giving the ga away now.
They stayed a while longer after that. The earlier tension had lted into sothing easier, sothing almost intimate.
Sarah ate a little, laughed softly at sothing he said, and the color in her cheeks refused to fade for the rest of the al, she remained bashful throughout. Stan kept the conversation light, letting the evening breathe.
Eventually, the plates were cleared, the check was settled, and the two of them walked out of the Sweet Peach together into the cool night air.
They lingered by the curb for a few monts, exchanging a last few quiet words, before finally going their separate ways.
..
Stan had arranged to et Maya Zimrman at a HYTV that evening.
Around seven o’clock, he arrived at the entrance of Li Street HYTV exactly on ti, and a sleek black Audi A8 pulled up to the curb at almost the sa mont.
Zane stepped out.
The instant his eyes landed on Stan, his expression curdled. Twice now, this nobody had walked off with a girl Zane had his eye on. Twice. The sheer indignity of it was still fresh enough to sting.
Zane smirked as he shut the car door. "Oh? No crappy bicycle today? Trading up in the world, are we?"
Stan gave him a single cold sidelong glance, said nothing, and walked past him into the building.
Zane followed him in, teeth grinding behind his smile.
The mont the door to Room 302 swung open, the atmosphere shifted.
"Brother Zane is here!"
"Co in, co in, sit here!"
"Brother Zane, we saved you the best seat!"
The entire room rose to greet him. Glasses were raised, chairs were shuffled, hands reached out to pat his shoulder. Zane was a second-generation rich kid, his family ran one of the bigger real estate outfits in the city, and everyone in this room had a reason to stay on his good side.
Stan, walking in right behind him, may as well have been invisible.
Not a single head turned in his direction. Not a single glass was raised. He simply didn’t exist to the people in this room.
Then a warmth pressed against his arm.
Maya had risen from the couch and slipped both hands around his elbow, leaning into him with an easy familiarity that stopped the room mid-greeting. He could even feel her soft boobs pressing slightly against him...
"You took forever," she said softly, smiling up at him. "I’ve been waiting."
She tugged him gently toward the seat beside hers and settled him in as if she’d been saving the spot all evening.
Zane’s expression froze. His smile was still stretched across his face, but his eyes had gone completely flat.
He and Stan had walked through the door at the exact sa mont, and Maya hadn’t so much as glanced his way. She hadn’t said hello. She hadn’t nodded. She hadn’t even looked.
But for Stan, she was practically glowing.
’What does he have that I don’t?’ Zane thought, jaw tightening. ’Better family? Better car? Better anything? He’s a nobody. He’s a college kid in cheap shoes. And she’s hanging off him like that.’
He forced himself to turn back to the n beside him and make small talk, nodding at whatever they were saying, laughing when it seed appropriate.
But his gaze kept dragging back across the room. Every ti he looked, Maya was still leaning into Stan’s shoulder, laughing at sothing he’d said in a low voice. Every glance was another drop of acid.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed a glass of beer off the table and stood up.
"Maya. Let toast you."
Maya barely looked up. "No thanks. I don’t really drink."
The rejection landed like a slap. A few minutes earlier, Stan had poured her a glass and she’d downed it without hesitation. Now Zane couldn’t even get her to lift her eyes.
His knuckles went white around the glass.
His gaze was filled with hate as it shifted to Stan. ’It’s because of him. It has to be.’
He set the beer down, reached for an unopened bottle of baijiu from the center of the table, and slid it across to Stan with deliberate force.
"Stan Harrison. Since you’re here, we’re all friends, right? Drink this. The whole bottle."
The entire room went quiet.
A few of the n around the table exchanged uncomfortable glances. An entire bottle of Monster Red Wine. No one, not even soone who drank regularly, downed a full bottle of high-proof liquor in one sitting. This wasn’t hospitality. This was a setup.
"I’m not drinking it," Stan said flatly.
He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen Zane’s face the mont they’d walked in, and he’d seen the way the man had been watching Maya all evening. Whatever this was, it had nothing to do with friendship.
Zane’s smile sharpened into sothing devilsh. Inwardly, he was pleased. He’d been hoping Stan would refuse; a man who caved too easily was no fun to humiliate.
’Good. If he’d just rolled over, where would be the satisfaction in that?’
"You do know the HYTV floor manager is a personal friend of mine." Zane leaned back, letting that land. "You refuse that glass tonight, you’re not just turning down a drink. You’re embarrassing in front of everyone here."
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