Chapter 4: The Storm Beneath the Surface
The following morning, Emma awoke to a sharp knock on the guesthouse door. She groaned, burying her face in the pillow, but the knocking persisted. Dragging herself out of bed, she shuffled to the door, opening it to find Liam standing there, immaculate as always in a tailored navy suit.
"Good morning," he said curtly. "You're late."
Emma glanced at the clock on the wall—7:02 a.m. "You said eight!" she protested.
"I said sharp. Consider this a lesson in preparedness," Liam replied, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. His gaze swept over the cluttered coffee table, where a half-empty mug and her sketchbook lay open.
"Nice art," he said, almost absentmindedly.
Emma blinked, caught off guard by the rare acknowledgment of something personal. "Thanks. It's just a hobby."
Liam's eyes lingered on the sketchbook for a fraction longer than necessary before he turned back to her. "Get ready. We have a packed schedule."
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A Morning of Controlled Chaos
Emma barely had time to grab a granola bar before they were in Liam's car, speeding toward the AshTech headquarters. The morning sun glinted off the sleek black exterior, and the engine purred like a content predator.
"You're unusually chipper today," Emma said, glancing at him.
"I don't do chipper," Liam replied, his eyes fixed on the road.
"Well, you're at least... less terrifying than usual."
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, but he said nothing.
When they arrived at the office, the energy inside was palpable. Employees moved with purpose, their eyes glued to tablets and phones as they navigated the sleek hallways. Emma struggled to keep up with Liam's long strides, nearly colliding with a delivery cart as she tried to match his pace.
"Try to keep up," he said over his shoulder.
"I'm not a gazelle, Liam," she muttered, earning a chuckle from one of the employees they passed.
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The Boardroom Battle
By midmorning, Emma found herself in yet another meeting, her tablet at the ready as Liam's assistant. This time, it was a strategy session with AshTech's marketing team.
"Our initial projections suggest strong consumer interest," a young executive began, gesturing to a series of slides. "But we need to address concerns about scalability."
Liam leaned back in his chair, his expression inscrutable. "Define 'concerns.'"
The executive faltered, clearly intimidated. "Well, there's a possibility that we may face delays in production if—"
"No," Liam interrupted. His tone was calm but firm, slicing through the room like a knife. "We don't deal in possibilities. We deal in certainties. If there's a problem, fix it. If there's no problem, stop wasting my time."
The room fell silent, and Emma had to fight the urge to applaud. Liam might be ruthless, but there was something undeniably impressive about his command of the room.
As the meeting continued, Emma's fingers flew across the tablet, taking detailed notes. She occasionally glanced at Liam, marveling at how effortlessly he controlled the conversation. He was like a chess master, always three moves ahead.
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An Unexpected Lunch Break
After the meeting, Emma expected to dive straight into another task, but Liam surprised her by suggesting they grab lunch at a nearby café.
"You eat lunch?" she teased as they walked to the car.
"I'm human, contrary to popular belief," Liam replied dryly.
The café was a cozy, unassuming spot nestled between two high-rises. The warm scent of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee enveloped them as they stepped inside. Liam ordered a simple sandwich and black coffee, while Emma opted for a salad and a chai latte.
As they waited for their food, Emma couldn't help but ask, "Do you ever take a break?"
Liam raised an eyebrow. "This is a break."
"I mean a real break. No meetings, no emails, no endless to-do lists."
Liam's lips quirked into something resembling a smile. "You sound like my sister."
Emma perked up. "You have a sister?"
"Older," he said, his tone softening slightly. "She's been trying to get me to slow down for years. Calls it 'work-life balance.'"
"Sounds like a smart woman," Emma said with a grin.
"She is," Liam admitted. "But she doesn't run a multi-billion-dollar company."
Emma decided to let it go, sensing that she'd pushed him as far as he was willing to go on the subject.
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An Afternoon Curveball
Back at the office, Emma was reviewing a list of potential vendors for an upcoming project when a frantic intern burst into the room.
"Mr. Ashford, there's a problem with the London account," the intern stammered, clutching a folder to her chest.
Liam stood immediately, his expression turning icy. "Explain."
Emma watched as the intern launched into a flurry of technical jargon, her voice trembling. Liam listened intently, his sharp gaze never wavering.
"Emma," he said suddenly, turning to her.
"Yes?"
"Pull up the London file and cross-check it against this report," he instructed, handing her the folder.
Emma nodded, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she brought up the necessary documents. She felt the weight of Liam's expectation pressing down on her, but she refused to let it rattle her.
After a tense twenty minutes, Emma found the discrepancy. "It's a miscommunication between the local team and the vendor," she said, looking up at Liam. "Easily fixable."
Liam's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Good work," he said, his voice low.
Emma blinked, startled by the rare compliment. "Uh, thanks."
---
The Evening Calm
By the time they returned to the estate, the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Emma was exhausted, but she couldn't deny the strange sense of accomplishment she felt.
"Long day," she said as they stepped inside.
"Get used to it," Liam replied, though there was no bite to his words.
Emma headed to the guesthouse, fully intending to collapse on the couch, but a knock at the door stopped her.
When she opened it, Liam stood there, holding two glasses of wine.
"What's this?" she asked, blinking in surprise.
"Consider it a peace offering," he said, handing her a glass.
Emma hesitated before accepting. "To what do I owe the honor?"
Liam smirked. "You survived the day without quitting. That's worth celebrating."
They sat on the small patio outside the guesthouse, the cool evening air wrapping around them. For a while, they sipped their wine in companionable silence, the tension of the day melting away.
"I have to admit," Emma said eventually, "you're not as bad as I thought."
Liam glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Don't let it go to your head."
Emma laughed, and for the first time since she'd met him, Liam smiled—a real, genuine smile.
It was fleeting, but it was enough to make her wonder if there was more to him than the icy exterior he presented to the world.
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