By Tuesday morning, Annie had decided that Friday was still several days away and therefore not worth thinking about. Unfortunately, her family disagreed. “So, what are you wearing?” Sophie asked through a video call. Annie stared at the phone while brushing her hair. “Why are you calling me at seven in the morning?” “Because you have a date.” “It’s dinner.” “With Brian.” “Still dinner.” Sophie leaned closer to the camera. “Has he kissed you?” Annie nearly dropped her hairbrush. “What kind of question is that?” “A reasonable one.” “You’re nineteen. Who taught you to ask such shameless questions?” “Life.” “Life needs to be arrested.” Sophie laughed. “You like him.” Annie turned away from the screen and began searching for an earring. “I like food. I like sleep. I like people who don’t ask ridiculous questions.” “You didn’t deny it.” “Because I refuse to waste my morning.” “Then why are you smiling?” Annie immediately stopped smiling. “I’m not.” “You are.” “I’m ending this call.” “Wait! Margaret said you might come over this weekend. Please come. I want to show you my new clothes.” Annie paused. Sophie had been one of the few people at the Starks residence who made her feel as though she belonged without asking her to prove anything. “Fine,” Annie said. “But if you make me try on something ridiculous, I’m leaving.” Sophie beamed. “Agreed!” “And don’t tell your brother I’m coming.” “Why?” “Because he’ll become insufferable.” “He’s already insufferable.” “Then we agree on something.” After ending the call, Annie glanced at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a loose sweatshirt and comfortable trousers, her hair falling around her shoulders. She had no intention of dressing up for anyone today. Especially not Brian Starks. Her phone vibrated. Brian: Good morning. Annie stared at the message. She typed: Annie: Debatable. His reply came shortly afterward. Brian: Did you sleep well? Annie: No. Your family’s youngest member interrogated me at seven. Brian: Sophie? Annie: She asked whether you kissed me. There was a longer pause this time. Annie smiled, waiting. Brian: And what did you tell her? Annie’s fingers stopped. She had expected him to be embarrassed or irritated. Instead, he had turned the question back on her. Annie: That you’re not brave enough. His response arrived almost immediately. Brian: You seem confident about that. Annie’s cheeks warmed. She typed and deleted three different responses before finally sending: Annie: Don’t flatter yourself. Brian: I wouldn’t dare. She tossed the phone onto her bed. “Annoying man.” But she picked it up again less than a minute later. At the Starks Group headquarters, Brian sat at the head of a long conference table while seven executives discussed a delayed construction project. The presentation had been running for thirty minutes. The figures were inaccurate, the proposed solution was weak, and the project manager had repeated the phrase unforeseen circumstances four times. Brian looked up from the report. “Stop.” The room went silent. The project manager swallowed. “Mr. Starks?” “You’ve explained the problem. Now explain why your department failed to anticipate it.” “We encountered several unexpected—” “Don’t repeat that phrase.” The man immediately stopped speaking. Jason Vale, seated two chairs away, hid a smile behind his coffee. Brian placed the report on the table. “I gave your team six weeks to identify the risks. You returned with a revised deadline and no solution.” “We can resolve it with additional funding.” “No.” The project manager’s face paled. Brian continued, “You don’t need more money. You need better management. Submit a revised plan by tomorrow morning. If it fails again, I’ll appoint someone who can do the job.” The meeting ended shortly afterward. As the executives filed out, Jason remained seated. “You’re in a good mood today.” Brian looked at him. “Am I?” “You threatened to replace only one person. Usually, you threaten three.” “Your observations are unnecessary.” Jason leaned back in his chair. “Is that because Annie texted you?” Brian picked up the report. Jason grinned. “She did, didn’t she?” “Do you have work?” “I’m working.” “You’ve been sitting here drinking coffee and monitoring my phone.” “I’m talented.” Brian ignored him. Jason tilted his head. “So, how is the dinner arrangement?” “It’s dinner.” “Of course.” “Nothing more.” “Then why did you ask the chef to prepare a private menu?” Brian’s hand paused over the report. Jason’s grin widened. “You really thought nobody would notice?” “I didn’t ask for a private menu.” “Your assistant did. On your instructions.” Brian said nothing. Jason laughed. “You’re finished.” “Leave.” “Before I go, I have one important question.” Brian looked up. “Are you planning to tell Annie that you like her, or are you going to continue pretending that asking whether she ate lunch is a normal business strategy?” Brian’s gaze sharpened. Jason lifted both hands. “I’m leaving.” He stood and walked toward the door. “Jason.” He turned. “Don’t mention this to anyone.” Jason smiled. “That depends on how entertaining you become.” The door closed behind him. Brian leaned back in his chair, staring at the phone on his desk. He had met countless people who wanted something from him. Investors wanted his approval. Competitors wanted his failure. Socialites wanted his attention. Annie wanted none of those things. She challenged him, mocked him, and treated his reputation like an amusing inconvenience. And somehow, he found himself checking the time until Friday. That afternoon, Annie returned home to find Eleanor waiting in the sitting room with two garment bags. Annie stopped in the doorway. “No.” Eleanor smiled. “You haven’t seen what’s inside.” “I recognize that expression.” “What expression?” “The expression of a mother who wants to dress her daughter.” Eleanor’s smile grew warmer. “You have dinner with Brian on Friday.” “Why does everyone know about this?” “Because you agreed to it in front of the entire family.” “I was ambushed.” Emily, sitting on the sofa, lifted one of the garment bags. “We only want to help.” Annie eyed the bag suspiciously. “Does helping involve lace, glitter, or a dress that makes breathing optional?” “None of those,” Emily promised. “That answer was too quick.” Eleanor unzipped the first bag. Inside was a deep blue dress with a simple cut, elegant without being overly formal. Annie stared at it. It was beautiful. She hated that immediately. “Try it on,” Eleanor said. “Why?” “Because I think it will suit you.” Annie glanced at Emily. “And if I don’t like it?” “Then you choose something else.” The answer was so straightforward that Annie couldn’t argue. She took the dress upstairs. Twenty minutes later, she came down wearing it. The dress fell neatly around her figure, with a modest neckline and a soft fabric that moved when she walked. Her purple hair was loose, framing her face. She wore no jewelry except a small pair of silver earrings. Eleanor’s eyes filled with emotion. Annie noticed and immediately became defensive. “Don’t cry.” “I’m not crying.” “Your eyes are shining.” “I’m proud of you.” “For wearing a dress?” “For becoming someone who can choose her own happiness.” Annie’s expression shifted. Eleanor approached her slowly and adjusted the sleeve. “You don’t have to impress Brian,” she said. “You don’t have to impress anyone. If you enjoy the evening, that’s enough.” Annie looked at her mother. The words should have felt ordinary. Instead, they reached somewhere deep inside her. For eighteen years, Eleanor had missed birthdays, school performances, illnesses, ordinary mornings, and countless small moments that mothers were supposed to witness. Now, she stood before Annie, trying to give her freedom instead of demanding affection. Annie swallowed. “Does this mean I can order whatever I want at dinner?” Eleanor smiled through the emotion in her eyes. “Of course.” “Then I’m considering happiness.” Emily laughed softly. Annie looked away before anyone could see how much the moment had affected her. Friday arrived far too quickly. Annie spent the morning at university, attended her lectures, completed a practical assignment, and argued with Jane over the correct amount of payment for sharing notes. “Lunch and dessert,” Annie insisted. “I already bought you coffee.” “That was for the previous assignment.” “You’re exploiting our friendship.” “I’m building a sustainable academic partnership.” Jane pointed at her. “One day, someone will refuse to pay you.” “I’ll report them.” “To whom?” “The authorities.” Jane laughed so loudly that Professor Miller glanced in their direction. Annie lowered her voice. “See? You’re ruining my professional reputation.” “You don’t have one.” “I’m an excellent student.” “You’re a menace with excellent grades.” Annie’s phone vibrated. Brian: I’ll pick you up at seven. She glanced at the time. Five thirty. Annie: I know how clocks work. Brian: I’m relieved. Annie: Where are we going? Brian: A restaurant. Annie frowned. Annie: That was suspiciously unhelpful. Brian: You said you liked food. Annie: I do. I also like knowing whether I should wear sneakers. Brian: Wear whatever you’re comfortable in. She looked down at her shoes. Annie: What if I wear pajamas? Brian: I’ll adjust. Annie stared at the message. Then she smiled. Annie: You’re becoming dangerously tolerable. Brian: I’ll try to recover. She put her phone away, but the smile remained. At seven precisely, Brian arrived. Annie came downstairs five minutes later, and the entire sitting room went quiet. Nicholas was the first to speak. “Good heavens.” Annie pointed at him. “Choose your next words carefully.” “You look like a person who pays taxes.” Emily laughed. Eleanor approached her daughter and kissed her forehead. “You look lovely.” “Thank you.” Linda stood near the bookshelf, watching silently. Her gaze moved over Annie’s dress, then toward the front door where Brian waited. For a moment, their eyes met. Annie expected another warning. Instead, Linda said, “Be careful.” It was not warm. It was not affectionate. But it wasn’t cruel, either. Annie studied her for a moment. “I always am.” Linda nodded once. Outside, Brian stood beside the car. His eyes moved over Annie, and for the first time since she had met him, he seemed briefly unable to conceal his reaction. His gaze lingered. Annie lifted an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?” “No.” “Then why are you staring?” “I’m deciding whether to compliment you.” “Take your time. I’m sure the process is difficult.” Brian opened the car door. “You look beautiful.” Annie paused. The words were simple, spoken without exaggeration or performance. She looked away. “You’re improving,” she said. “Thank you.” “That wasn’t a compliment.” “I’ll take it anyway.” She entered the car, and Brian followed. As they drove away from the Samson residence, Annie glanced at him. “So, where are we going?” “You’ll see.” She groaned. “I hate surprises.” “It isn’t a surprise.” “Then tell me.” Brian turned his head slightly. “Dinner first. Afterward, I have something to show you.” Annie studied him. “Brian Starks, if you take me somewhere strange, I’m leaving you there.” “Understood.” “And if you try to impress me with money—” “I won’t.” “And if you order food I don’t like—” “You can order whatever you want.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you sound prepared for all my complaints?” Brian looked ahead. “Because you have many.” Annie smiled despite herself. Outside, the city lights began to glow, and the distance between them felt strangely smaller than it had the week before. Neither of them noticed the dark sedan that had remained several cars behind them since they left the Samson residence. Inside it, a woman lowered her phone after taking a photograph of Brian’s car. A message appeared on her screen. Unknown Number: She’s with Brian Starks. The woman looked toward the disappearing vehicle. Then she typed: Woman: I know. She paused before sending another message. Woman: Find out what he wants with her. The car continued through the traffic, following at a careful distance.

A Dinner with Conditions