Chapter 2 Chapter Two
“Do you like children, Cesar?” Elyon asked, watching him eat with the casual curiosity of someone who already expected a bizarre answer.
He had invited her to lunch—even though she’d made it clear she didn’t want to go—but Cesar Sandoval was not a man who accepted objections. Not from her. Not from anyone.
Cesar looked up from his plate, one brow lifting. The question came out of nowhere, and he couldn’t help wondering what ridiculous trail of thoughts had led her to it this time.
“I do… sometimes,” he said with a shrug. “Why do you ask?”
“Sometimes? Not every time?” she echoed, her lips twitching. “That’s a strange thing to say.”
He let out a long, masculine sigh and dropped his spoon with a soft clink. “Are you about to lecture me on my supposed dislike for children, Ellie?”
“No, of course not.” She frowned. “And stop calling me Ellie.”
“You call me Cesar,” he countered.
“Isn’t that your name?” she asked, all practiced innocence.
“It’s Cesari,” he corrected. “Besides, I’m your boss.”
“So?” she shot back without hesitation.
“I demand that you respect me.”
“Sure,” she said sweetly, flashing him a saccharine smile. “Sorry, boss.” She didn’t sound sorry in the slightest, and Cesar knew she never would be. That was the thing about Elyon—she pushed back. Always. And annoyingly… he liked it.
He rolled his eyes. “You should be grateful I’m in a good mood. That stunt you pulled this morning wasn’t funny.”
“Would you have fired me?” she purred. Earlier, he’d asked for coffee the way he always liked it, and she’d dumped so much sugar into it that he’d nearly puked. In her mind, that had been hilarious. In his… less so.
“Of course,” he replied flatly.
“Considering I’m the best assistant you’ve ever had?” she shot back. “No one makes coffee like I do, and you know it. Even though you work me like a horse.”
“Should I give you a raise, then?” he asked with forced sweetness. “I can easily hire someone more submissive—someone who won’t give me migraines every single day.”
Elyon narrowed her eyes. “You’re lucky I’m not looking for a better job.” She said it through clenched teeth, but he only smirked. He loved getting under her skin. It was his favorite pastime.
“I hope you don’t tell your husband everything I do to you,” he added casually. “Not that he’d do anything—but I’d rather avoid a furious man storming my office.”
“I thought you’d have noticed,” she murmured.
“Noticed what?” His brows knitted.
“Since you notice every new thing about me…” She trailed off, giving him a coy, maddeningly knowing smile.
His frown deepened. “I don’t,” he snapped, a little too quickly—because he did notice. He always noticed.
Elyon laughed. “Liar liar, Cesar on fire,” she teased. “Should I start listing the weird little details you pay attention to?”
He quickly changed the subject. “What have I not noticed about you?” If he let her continue, they would both end up annoyed—and to his surprise, he didn’t want the lunch to end that way.
“I don’t wear a ring.” She held up her left hand.
“Oh?” He grabbed her hand as if to inspect it, then leaned forward as though he planned to bite her fingers. She squeaked and jerked her hand back. He chuckled. “Doesn’t matter. Women don’t need a ring or a changed name to be married. Some women hide it from men they want to impress.”
“I’m not,” Elyon said firmly, her tone bordering on defiant.
Cesar leaned back in his chair, arms folded, giving her a pointed look. “Then explain your daughter. Or is she adopted?”
“A very irresponsible man got me pregnant,” she replied breezily, as though discussing the weather.
“Rape?” His expression darkened instantly.
“No.”
“If you gave yourself to him, then you’re equally irresponsible,” he said bluntly. “Ever heard of condoms? Birth control? Anything?” He shrugged. “Who is he?”
“He’s dead.” Her voice softened for a moment. “He died before she was born.”
“Too bad,” Cesar said—without a shred of remorse. Then he flashed her a grin. “But good thing for me. I won’t have to share you with anyone.”
Elyon rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Don’t flatter yourself, Cesar. I don’t have a husband, but I do have a boyfriend.”
“No, you don’t,” he replied instantly, looking far too smug for her liking.
And the worst part? The part she refused to admit even to herself?
He looked like a man absolutely certain he was right.
“And you know that, how?” Elyon arched a brow at him, unconvinced.
“I know everything about you.” Cesar shot her a lopsided grin—confident, teasing, and entirely self-assured in the way only he could pull off.
Elyon snorted. “Right. And you didn’t know I’m not married.” She drawled the words, savoring the jab. “How very perceptive of you, sir.”
His grin faded, replaced by something unexpectedly serious. “Did you love him?” he asked quietly. “Your daughter’s father.”
The question made Elyon shift in her seat. It was too direct, too intimate. He had no business asking—but that had never stopped Cesar Sandoval. “Why do you want to know?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
“I’m curious.” He shrugged like it was nothing. “Were you in love with him?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted softly. Then, to deflect, “Have you ever been in love?”
For the first time, Cesar looked away. His fingers toyed with the folded napkin beside his plate, rolling it between his knuckles in a way that told her more than any words could. He didn’t answer—wouldn’t answer—and his silence carried its own story.
“Cesar?” she called gently. “Are you okay?” Her hand lifted toward his, instinctively seeking him, but she pulled back before making contact. They were in public.
With him, they were always one move away from gossip headlines. Lunch alone with Cesari Sandoval could make the news by evening; she already braced herself to see it online.
After all, his name alone was headline material.
“What time will you pick up your daughter?” he asked suddenly, startling her with the shift.
“Two-thirty. Why?” Elyon frowned. He had never asked about her daughter before—not like this.
“Let’s go together. It’s one o’clock.”
She blinked. “You really want to?”
“Of course.” He stood, as if that settled it.
“Um… okay.” She remained seated a beat longer, trying to understand what game he was playing.
“Right now,” Cesar said, impatience creeping into his tone.
She rose quickly and followed him. He paid the bill without looking at the amount—he never did—and they headed to the car. Elyon stayed quiet during the drive, grateful when his phone rang and distracted him… though only briefly.
“How old is your daughter?” he asked when the call ended.
“She’s five.” Elyon hesitated before adding, “You really shouldn’t have bothered. You have that meeting with Emerald Arts at three. It’s been scheduled for months.”
“Let’s just say I’ve switched into an ‘I like children’ mood.” Cesar flashed her another lopsided grin. “Emerald Arts can wait. They need me—I don’t need them.”
“Cocky much?” she muttered.
“You know it turns you on.” He winked.
Heat crept up her neck, and Elyon quickly looked out the window. “It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”
“The AC is on, Elyon,” Cesar said, amused. “Am I too hot for you?”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t answer. He was the hottest man she’d ever known, but she’d sooner walk barefoot over broken glass than admit he’d starred in her dreams almost every night since she started working for him.
“Tell me,” he pressed as he parked behind a gray SUV. They’d arrived faster than she expected—thanks to his maddeningly reckless driving skills.
“You’re not my type, Cesar.” She forced a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
The school bell rang, saving her. “That’s the bell. I’ll go get her.” She unfastened her seat belt, stepped out before he could respond, and shut the door firmly behind her.
Cesar watched her go, shaking his head with a slow, knowing smile. “I’m not your type, eh Ellie?” he thought, leaning back in his seat. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart.”
