16
When I came out, Nicolai had also composed himself. His jacket was draped over a chair, and he was sitting at his desk in his shir-
tsleeves, his tie re–knotted, signing documents with a fountain pen.
When he saw me, he pushed his gold–rimmed glasses up his nose, returning to his powerful, old–school CEO persona.
“I’m flying to France the day after tomorrow. I’ll be gone for about two months.” It was a routine report.
His pen paused. He looked up and gave me a long, deep look, but said nothing.
I glanced at him, scrolling through my phone. Clara knocked gently on the door, breaking the silence.
“Let’s go.” I stood up.
Clara clutched my bag, following me nervously. “Serena, I think Mr. Payne is unhappy…”
She’d nearly stopped breathing when she first walked in.
“Mm,” I said. His happiness was none of my business.
After so many years in the business world, Nicolai rarely let his emotions show. If even Clara could tell he was unhappy, then his
displeasure was directed at me.
“Serena, look at the photo!” Clara said, showing me her phone like a prized treasure.
I had only intended a casual glance.
The photo was taken at dusk in the summer. A tilted umbrella was held over a man’s head. I stood beside him, a bouquet of dark
roses in my arms. The camera had caught the exact moment our eyes met.
I remembered that day. It was raining, but the setting sun broke through a gap in the clouds. I looked at him and smiled.
“Send me the photo,” I said, putting my sunglasses back on.
Clara’s fingers flew across the screen. A minute later, she was practically dancing in circles. Who gets a bonus twice for the same
photo?
“Serena, I love you!”
ignored her, my mind lost in the past.
Chapter 2
2011
Clara got in the driver’s seat, taking several deep breaths to calm down. “Serena, see the clip in your hair in the photo? And your
hairstyle? Doesn’t Chloe’s look today seem really similar?”
