Part 2 : Chapter Eleven

Dave's POV

I was seated at my desk in my office, the pen drumming on the smooth wood, the hard gaze set on the pile of papers before me. Contracts, proposals, and another sort of very important document to do with Styles but my mind strayed—again. It always did where she was concerned these past few days.

It was a few days after the meeting with the investors, and though I felt much more confident about the prospects of my business, my mind kept reverting to her. What a look she gave me in that restaurant, all mixed up with one of both surprise and something else, which I could not quite lay my finger on. And then there was that very undeniable spark that flew between the two of us, prompted by Aranne, no doubt.

I exhaled noisily, and I shoved the papers aside, facing instead my phone. It was then that I began to scroll through the usual deluge of work mail, updates, and messages of assorted mundanity—until something did catch my eye. Written in scarlet red across the middle of some e