That evening, in a restaurant.

Amelia walked in to the sound of romantic music and found the place entirely reserved, with only a single table and chairs set up in the center.

At the table stood an impeccably dressed and handsome man. Amelia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

Richard Grayson rose to greet her, holding a bouquet of flowers in his left hand. He smiled and waved. “Hi, Amelia. Long time no see.”

“Call me Miss Ainsworth,” she replied coldly.

She ignored the flowers he offered her and asked sharply, “Did Elise contact you? What did she tell you?”

Richard tried to lighten the mood with a joke. “Come on, I’ve been pestering her for years now. She’s just worried about you.”

He gestured toward the table and added with a shrug, “For Elise’s sake?”

Amelia hesitated for a moment before walking toward the table. Richard pulled out a chair for her.

Once she removed her coat and sat down, the waiter began to serve the dishes. Richard attempted to break the ice. “I ordered all your old favorites. Remember when you tricked me into trying ‘meat gravy soft-serve’ and ‘salmon milkshakes’ in the cafeteria? You said they were your favorite foods. I was brave enough to try them, and I nearly filed a complaint with the school afterward. We were paying so much in tuition, and they served us that horror?”

“Get to the point,” Amelia said, unimpressed.

Richard’s smile faded. Lowering his voice, he said, “Amelia, I heard about what you’re going through. You made the right decision. He didn’t deserve you—”

“Save it,” Amelia cut him off. “No wonder you won the New York mayoral race by a landslide. That silver tongue of yours works wonders.”

Richard looked slightly hopeful. “You’ve been following my career?”

“No matter how many channels I switch to, I can’t seem to avoid you. It’s made me hate watching TV already to be honest. Now, stop beating around the bush.”

Richard’s expression turned serious. “Amelia, I’m here for two reasons. First, I want to help you through this difficult time. Second, I want to apologize for what happened back then.”

He suddenly cursed under his breath. “I was such an idiot!”

“I won’t make excuses. Breaking up with you was the worst decision of my life. Losing you made me realize…” His voice wavered slightly. “…just how much you mean to me.”

“I’m not expecting immediate forgiveness. I just want to be by your side and help you win this divorce case.”

He gave a bitter smile. “I know you’d probably rather punch me in the face, but time will prove my sincerity.”

“Thanks for your concern. I accept your apology if it’ll make you feel better,” Amelia said as she stood, picking up her coat. She looked him in the eyes and said firmly, “But whatever we had at Stanford ended a long time ago.”

She turned and walked away.

“Wait! At least look at this!”

Richard stepped in front of her, holding out a gold-embossed dinner invitation. “It’s for the New York Women’s Rights Charity Dinner Party. I’ve recommended you as their legal advisor. Your actions after the divorce are exactly the kind of inspiration working women need.”

Amelia pushed the invitation aside. “I don’t see myself as any kind of role model. It’s just a divorce.”

“That’s exactly the attitude we need.” Richard’s eyes lit up.

“That ‘it’s just a divorce’ mindset is what inspires others most. People want to support those who show strength.”

Seeing that Amelia wasn’t stopping, Richard reluctantly put the invitation away and followed her. “It’s raining outside. Let me give you a ride.”

…

…

One hour earlier, in the hallway of the City Hall office.

Chad stood up for the third time to stretch his numb legs. Seated nearby, Vianna scowled. “We’ve been waiting for three hours. How much longer are we going to wait?”

Chad frowned. “We have to wait. Every company in the city is vying for this project. If we leave now, it’s like forfeiting.”

His phone buzzed with a message from his assistant—it’s a proposal for renovating his house. Thinking about the house that looked like it had been through a warzone—and about the person responsible, Amelia—his anger flared.

Just then, the office door opened. Chad and Vianna, along with their entourage, turned toward the sound. Mara Claire, the mayor’s public affairs assistant, stepped out holding a stack of files.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Weatherfield,” Mara said apologetically. “The mayor had an emergency come up—”

Vianna interrupted, her tone sharp with irritation. “We’ve been waiting for three hours! We booked this appointment a week in advance, and it’s the third time we’ve had to reschedule!”

Mara apologized again. “Unforeseen circumstances are unavoidable. How about I help you—”

Chad stepped forward, his face dark with barely restrained anger. “Listen, Mara. Last time you said he was in a meeting. The time before that, you said he was sick. Now, today, I have to see him!”

He glared at her, his voice cold. “Is this how the city government treats taxpayers? Weatherfield Group employs nearly ten thousand people and pays billions in taxes to New York City every year. My time is just as valuable.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Weatherfield,” Mara said, her tone firm, “this is City Hall, not your boardroom. If you continue like this—”

“What?” Chad snapped with a cold laugh. “The taxes I pay could fund the government for a year, and I can’t even get basic respect?”

“Should I call security?” Mara countered without flinching.

Chad was on the verge of exploding when Vianna quickly stepped between them, smiling diplomatically. “Mara, we’re so sorry. The pressure of this project has been overwhelming. I heard The Georges’ is always your favorite—maybe we could…”

“No need,” Mara said curtly, shooting a sharp glance at Chad before turning away. “I’m just a humble civil servant paid with taxpayer dollars, after all.”

Chad and Vianna exchanged a look. Chad knew he had pushed Mara too far. Vianna tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix this.”

Chad nodded grimly. “Fine. Let’s leave. I need a goddamn drink.”

They walked silently toward the parking lot. Once inside the car, as the engine started and the vehicle pulled away from City Hall, Chad leaned against the window, his face dark. Suddenly, his body stiffened, and his eyes locked onto something outside.

“Stop the car!” he barked, slamming his palm against the driver’s seat.

Vianna, mid-sip from her water bottle, followed his gaze.

There, on the sidewalk, stood Mayor Richard Grayson. He was holding an umbrella, tilted entirely toward Amelia, while his expensive suit was almost soaked by the rain.

Richard opened the door of a taxi for her, shielding her head with his hand to prevent her from bumping it. He waved after the taxi as it drove off, standing there in the rain until it disappeared.

Vianna choked on her water, coughing violently as she exclaimed in disbelief, “Was that Amelia? How could she be with the mayor? Wait, no, I must’ve seen it wrong!”

Chad said nothing, his eyes still glued to the direction the taxi had gone. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the car door handle.