Raine stepped out of the car, her sandals clicking softly against the polished marble driveway as she gazed up once again at the grand hotel façade. The last time she'd been here, it felt like stepping into another world. But this time… something was different.
Beside her, Jeff rounded the car and offered his hand like a proper gentleman. She raised an eyebrow playfully at the gesture but took it, her fingers brushing his palm lightly.
"You're full of surprises tonight," she murmured.
"You haven't seen anything yet," he replied, smiling faintly.
But as they walked through the golden-glass entrance, a strange energy settled in the air.
From the doorman to the concierge, from the elevator staff to the kitchen runners passing by—each person they passed paused for a heartbeat longer than usual. Some bowed at the waist. Others nodded with a solemn, halfway-deferential tilt of the head, eyes briefly flickering to Jeff like he was royalty in disguise.
The difference from their last visit was undeniable.
Raine looked around, her brow furrowing. "Um… do you notice they're… bowing?"
Jeff let out an awkward chuckle and scratched the back of his head. "Maybe the chef was really grateful for your last review."
"Last time they greeted me with, 'Please this way, Miss Callahan.' Now I feel like I just walked into a royal summit," she said under her breath.
They passed by the front desk, where one of the hotel employees visibly straightened, eyes darting to Jeff before nodding again—deeper this time. Raine caught it. Again.
Her suspicion grew.
"Jeff," she whispered as they entered the elevator, her voice low and eyes narrowing. "Be honest with me. Are you, like… friends with the owner?"
He coughed. "Something like that."
"You know that doesn't explain why that manager just said 'Welcome back, sir' when he looked at you and not me."
"…Maybe I fixed his orchids last week?"
"You're dodging."
The elevator dinged open at the top floor, leading to a private hallway bathed in soft, golden light. A host was already waiting for them, hands clasped in front of his vest, bowing deeply—not halfway this time—as they approached.
"Mr. Jeff, Miss Callahan," the host said smoothly. "This way, please."
Raine's eyes flared. "Even the host knows your name. Jeff. A name I just made up because you lied to me about being the gardener."
Jeff's face twitched. "I'm very… memorable in plant-related circles."
But Raine wasn't buying it anymore. Her eyes flicked from the luxurious crystal chandeliers above to the impossibly polished marble beneath her feet. Last time, the balcony table was lovely. This time—it was downright regal. Velvet chairs. Candle-lit centerpiece. A string quartet playing softly on a side stage.
"I thought this was just a thank-you tasting," she whispered.
"It is," Jeff said innocently.
"With velvet chairs?"
The waiters arrived with the first course. Not one, but two personal sommeliers poured wine with synchronized grace. An executive chef approached the table to explain each ingredient in the amuse-bouche in detail, visibly nervous around Jeff.
Raine blinked.
Jeff offered her a nervous smile, then turned to the chef. "She's the one you want to impress."
The chef turned, bowed to Raine, and said, "Of course. We took your assessment very seriously, Miss Callahan. The team was grateful for your candid notes."
Raine, momentarily flustered, tried to sit back and enjoy herself, but her mind was racing. The food was divine—flavors she hadn't tasted anywhere else. Dishes appeared with precision timing. But so did the glares of reverence aimed subtly at her date.
Halfway through the main course, she leaned toward Jeff and whispered, "Okay. Spill. Are you someone important here?"
He set down his knife slowly, pausing to consider his next words.
"…Does it change anything if I say no?"
She frowned. "That is a yes."
He sighed, finally meeting her eyes with a serious expression. "Raine… I didn't lie to hurt you. I just… wanted to know what it was like to be around someone who didn't care about names, power, or the world I usually live in."
She stared at him, searching. "So what world is that?"
Jeff—or rather, Tristan—hesitated. "One with suits, meetings, control, and people who look at me like they owe me something or fear me. It's exhausting."
Raine was quiet for a long moment. Then she smiled softly, not out of amusement, but understanding.
"Well, Jeff," she said, voice teasing but kind, "If you're planning to keep pretending to be normal, you'll need to stop bowing back at your employees. Kinda gives it away."
He laughed, relieved. "I'll work on it."
The rest of the evening unfolded like a slow dance—warm, elegant, and genuine. Even with all the luxury, it was the small things Raine noticed most: the way Jeff let her taste the best bites first, how he listened to every comment she made on flavor, and the light in his eyes whenever she smiled.
She didn't need to know everything. Not yet.
Because for now, in this world of chandeliers and secret names… all that mattered was that the man beside her, no matter how powerful or dangerous his truth may be—was real when he looked at her.
And that was enough.