Wram 209

Chapter 209 

Madison 

I nodded, gathering my thoughts. “I didn’t see Herbert Hayes at the welcome gathering. Is he joining the tearn later?” 

Alexander returned to his desk, shuffling some papers. “He’ll join from Monday. He’s wrapping up a project in 

Boston.” 

“I see.” I moved toward his desk, collecting the files he’d set aside. “I should get these back to my team.‘ 

“We’re going out for lunch this afternoon,” he announced abruptly. 

I paused, files halfway into my arms. “We are?” 

“Yes.” Alexander straightened his tie. “To celebrate your first day as project manager. I had planned dinner, but I’m required at a family obligation tonight.” 

The way he said “family obligation” made it sound like he was describing a root canal. 

“Lunch sounds perfect,” I said, shifting the files in my arms. “I should be able to meet with most of the team members before then.” 

He glanced at his watch. “I’ll have a car ready at 1:30. Don’t be late.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Knight.” 

“I know you wouldn’t.” 

I returned to my new office, distributing the files to my team members and scheduling individual meetings with them. The morning flew by in a whirlwind of discussions about timelines, contractor specifications, and budget concerns. Lucas proved more knowledgeable than I’d expected, and Sophia’s organizational skills were impressive. 

At 1:25, I wrapped up my meeting with Thomas. 

“We’ll continue this tomorrow,” I said, closing my notebook. “Your concerns about the sustainability requirements are valid. I’ll bring them up with Mr. Knight.” 

Thomas nodded, gathering his materials. “Thanks for listening. The last PM just brushed me off.” 

“I’m not the last PM,” I replied with a smile. 

After Thomas left, I quickly checked my appearance in the compact mirror I kept in my desk drawer. My lipstick needed a touch–up, and a few strands of hair had escaped my updo. I fixed 

comment about liking my hair up. 

At exactly 1:30, my phone buzzed. 

Alexander: Car’s waiting. 

I grabbed my nurse and headed fruth 

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both, remembering Alexander’s 

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Chapter 200 

opening the door as I approached. Alexander was already inside, typing on his phone. 

“Right on time,” he said without looking up as I slid in beside him. 

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“Always.” I settled into the buttery leather seat, careful to maintain a professional distance. 

The car pulled away from the curb, merging smoothly into midday Manhattan traffic. Alexander finally put his phone away, turning his attention to me. 

“How’s your team?” 

“Talented. Opinionated. Skeptical of my abilities.” 

He smirked. “So, a typical project team.” 

“Pretty much.” I glanced out the window. “Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see.” 

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Alexander’s mysterious act was simultaneously annoying and intriguing, a combination he had mastered to perfection. 

“One hint?” I tried. 

“Patience was never your strong suit, was it?” He gave me a sideways glance, amusement playing at the corners 

of his mouth. 

“I prefer to be prepared.” 

“Sometimes the best experiences come from surrendering control.” His voice dropped slightly. “I thought you’d have learned that by now.” 

Heat crept up my neck at his implication. I turned to look out the window, focusing on the passing buildings instead of his knowing smirk. Manhattan’s skyscrapers blurred past as I tried to regain my composure. Alexander had a way of unbalancing me with just a few words, and he knew it. 

The car slowed, pulling up to the curb outside a restaurant I’d only read about in magazines. Paloma’s was notorious for its month–long waiting list and celebrity clientele. 

“This is where we’re having lunch?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise. 

“Is that a problem?” Alexander’s eyebrow arched as the driver opened his door. 

“No, just… unexpected.” 

The maître d‘ greeted Alexander by name as we entered, leading us to a corner table partially secluded by an arrangement of lush plants. The restaurant hummed with quiet conversation, crystal glasses catching the light from overhead chandeliers. 

“Mr. Knight, always a pleasure,” the maître d‘ said, pulling out my chair. “Chef Paloma will be delighted you’re here. She’s preparing something special today.” 

Alexander nodded. “We’ll have the chef’s selection. And a bottle of the Château Margaux.” 

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“Excellent choice, sir.” 

After the maître d‘ departed, I glanced around at the elegant space. “Do you always get the royal treatment wherever you go?” 

“Not royal treatment. Just appropriate service.” He unfolded his napkin with practiced precision. “Success has its privileges.” 

“Clearly.” I placed my own napkin in my lap. “So what’s the occasion? You don’t strike me as someone who celebrates first days.” 

Alexander’s eyes met mine. “I’m celebrating potential. Yours, specifically.” 

“My potential?” I laughed softly. “That’s a first.” 

“I don’t invest in projects or people without seeing their value.” He leaned forward slightly. “This Manhattan development could be career–defining for you, Madison.” 

A waiter appeared with water and bread, momentarily pausing our conversation. Once we were alone again, I broke a piece of sourdough, buying time before responding. 

“You really believe that? About my potential?” 

“I wouldn’t have given you the position if I didn’t.” His voice was matter–of–fact. “Your attention to detail is exceptional. Your ability to anticipate needs is rare.” 

I felt warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with embarrassment this time. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me yet. The real work is just beginning.” He took a sip of water. “This project will demand everything you have. Late nights, early mornings, constant problem–solving.” 

“I’m not afraid of hard work.” 

“I know.” His lips curved slightly. “It’s one of your more admirable qualities.” 

The wine arrived, and Alexander went through the ritual of tasting and approving it before the sommelier poured our glasses. 

“To new beginnings,” he said, raising his glass. 

I clinked mine against his. “And successful completions.” 

His eyes darkened at my words, and I realized too late how they could be interpreted. I took a quick sip of wine to hide my reaction. 

“How’s your mother doing?” he asked, mercifully changing the subject. 

“Much better. Dr. Williams says she can be discharged in a few days.” 

“That’s excellent news.” Alexander seemed genuinely pleased. “The treatment plan is working then?” 

“Yes. She’ll need bed rest for a couple weeks, but she’s already talking about going back to work sooner than recommended.” 

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“Stubborn,” he observed. “I see where you get it from.” 

I laughed. “I’m not stubborn.” 

“No?” His eyebrow rose. “What would you call insisting on keeping both positions when anyone else would have chosen one?” 

“Determined,” I replied with a smile. 

“A diplomatic answer.” He swirled the wine in his glass. “Make sure you take time to help her settle in at home. Your team can manage a day or two without you.” 

The genuine concern in his voice caught me off guard. “That’s… thoughtful of you.” 

“She’s important to you. That makes her well–being relevant to our arrangement.” 

I nodded, momentarily speechless at this unexpected consideration. Moments like these complicated our arrangement: glimpses of genuine care beneath his calculated exterior. 

“If you hadn’t offered to help with my mother’s medical bills, I wouldn’t have agreed to this arrangement in the first place,” I said finally, tracing the rim of my wine glass. “Taking care of her is non–negotiable.” 

Alexander’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the corner of his mouth lifted. “True. Your loyalty to her was apparent from our first conversation.” He took another sip of wine. “Family loyalty is rare these days.” 

“Says the man attending a ‘family obligation‘ tonight with all the enthusiasm of a root canal appointment.” 

He chuckled, a rich sound that made heads turn at nearby tables. “Touché, Ms. Harper.” 

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