***
Ivy's feet already hated her by ten o'clock.
She moved between tables with the silver rose pinned to her collar catching every flicker of light, trying to look like she'd done this a hundred times instead of three hours. The silk blouse clung to her back. Her cheap heels were staging a full rebellion.
But the money. God, the tips were stupid.
A middle-aged woman in diamonds snapped her fingers and Ivy appeared with another glass of champagne, smiling like her life depended on it.
"Thank you, darling," the woman purred, slipping a hundred-dollar bill onto the tray like it was nothing. "You have honest eyes. Rare in this place."
Ivy nearly laughed out loud. *Honest eyes? Lady, I'm pretending I belong here while counting my escape money in my head.*
She kept the smile anyway. "Enjoy your evening."
As she turned, she caught her reflection in one of the tall mirrors lining the wall. Dark hair still mostly in place. Cheeks slightly flushed. She looked… alive. Tense. But alive.
*Don't get comfortable, Caine. This isn't your world.*
She was heading back to the service station when she nearly collided with a tall guy carrying a tray of empty glasses. Warm brown eyes. Easy smile. The kind that actually reached his eyes.
"Whoa, sorry," he said, steadying her tray with one hand. "New girl, right? Elijah."
"Ivy." She adjusted her grip. "And yeah. Day one. Try not to laugh at my obvious panic."
Elijah grinned. "You're doing better than the last three who lasted a week. One of them cried when a client asked for a specific year of Bordeaux. You just served champagne to Mrs. Harrington without flinching. Respect."
Ivy felt her shoulders loosen a fraction. "I have no idea what year anything is. I'm just hoping they don't notice I'm winging it."
"Your secret's safe with me." He nodded toward the mezzanine. "Just watch yourself around the boss. He doesn't usually stare this much."
Ivy's stomach did a small flip. She didn't look up. She refused to.
Instead she muttered, "Great. I've been here four hours and I'm already special. My life goals are complete."
Elijah chuckled softly and moved on.
The night deepened. The jazz got slower, the laughter louder, the secrets thicker. Ivy caught fragments as she passed booths — conversations about mergers, affairs, someone whispering about "the shipment coming in clean." She kept her face blank and her ears open.
She was clearing a table when the air changed again. That now-familiar shift that made the hairs on her arms stand up.
Aiden.
He was on the floor this time, moving through the room like he owned every shadow in it. Black shirt. Controlled steps. He stopped to speak with a group of important-looking men, but his attention wasn't fully on them.
It kept drifting.
To her.
Ivy felt it every single time. Like a touch she couldn't see. When she delivered drinks to a corner booth, she risked a glance.
Their eyes locked.
He didn't look away. Neither did she. For two full seconds the entire noisy room narrowed down to storm-gray eyes and the way her pulse suddenly felt too loud in her throat.
Aiden's jaw tightened. He rubbed it once, slowly, then turned back to his conversation.
Ivy exhaled and kept moving, but her mind wouldn't shut up.
*What is your deal, Aiden Vale? You hired me in thirty seconds flat and now you watch me like I'm a puzzle you're scared to solve.*
Later, during her ten-minute break, she slipped out to the small staff terrace for air. The city lights glittered below. She leaned on the railing, biting her lower lip hard.
"You're going to draw blood doing that."
She spun around.
Aiden stood in the doorway, one shoulder against the frame, watching her. How did he move so quietly?
"I needed air," she said, trying to sound casual. "Is that against the rules too?"
"No." He stepped outside but stayed a careful distance away. "You're handling tonight well."
"Surprised?"
A faint flicker crossed his face. Almost amusement. "A little."
Ivy turned back toward the city lights, hyper-aware of him behind her. The cedar scent. The quiet power. The way he made the terrace feel smaller than it was.
"You always watch new employees this closely?" she asked without turning around.
"Only the ones who don't flinch."
She glanced back. He was closer now. Not touching distance, but close enough that her stupid heart noticed.
"And what happens when I do flinch?" she asked.
Aiden's eyes darkened. "Then I'll know I was wrong about you."
He left it there, hanging in the cool night air between them. No explanation. No smile. Just those words and the weight of everything he wasn't saying.
Ivy stayed on the terrace long after he disappeared inside, fingers gripping the railing, wondering why part of her already wanted to prove him right.
And why another part was terrified she would.
--