Chapter 9
The hot springs resort cleared its name and got back on track.
That day, I decided to take Sebastian Cross out to dinner.
During the meal. I handed him an offer letter–inviting him to be the company’s legal counsel.
He handled problems with extreme efficiency, never dragged things out.
Never overstepped professional boundaries either–he’d made a deep impression on me.
Sebastian opened the offer letter and when he saw the salary stated on it, he paused for a moment, taken aback.
“Ms. Channing is quite generous,
“Even in capital, this is double the industry standard.”
My hand cutting the steak paused.
“You’re worth it.”
He chuckled softly..
*If Ms. Channing is truly sincere, follow proper protocol and take back the extra.
1 gently clinked glasses with him, reflecting:
“I just wanted to thank you, but you’re right I can’t let gratitude compromise your professionalism.
“I’ll redraft the offer. I hope Mr. Cross won’t refuse then.
“We’ll see.”
After everything settled, Sebastian quickly packed up and left the city.
So I started intentionally finding little ‘troubles.”
Sometimes it was the company’s ongoing legal risk management.
Sometimes Sebastian and I needed to discuss certain legal clauses or practical difficulties.
Sebastian’s replies were always sharp and to the point, carrying his characteristic incisiveness and composure.
With a touch of dry humor.
Neither of us called it out.
Chapter 9
Until three months later, when I had a business trip to Washington.
Before departure, my assistant approached me.
“Boss, I sent your itinerary to Mr. Cross.”
My heart jumped.
I wanted to scold her for taking liberties, yet felt hopeful.
With anxiety and anticipation, the flight arrived on time.
I followed the crowd out of the gate.
Washington’s autumn sunlight streamed through enormous floor–to–ceiling windows onto the polished floors.
As if sensing something, I looked toward where light and shadow met.
At the edge of the pickup crowd, I immediately spotted that familiar figure.
Sebastian wore a sharply tailored dark gray trench coat.
Just standing there quietly, his steady gaze scanning the exit.
When our eyes met in midair, the corners of his mouth curved upward slightly.
Then he stepped forward, walking straight toward me.
“Ms. Channing, smooth flight?”
No small talk, no formalities–as if I’d just come to Washington for a meeting and he happened to be free to pick me up.
I looked at him and mirrored his smile.
“Yes, smooth.”
We walked side by side with the crowd.
Quietly heading toward the airport exit.
Afternoon sunlight filtered through the glass curtain wall, stretching our shadows long across the bright, spacious corridor.
Washington’s wind carried warmth–like my heart, pounding hot in that moment.
