The restaurant was dimly lit, classy but quiet-the kind of place where lawyers made deals and models were rarely recognized. Which, of course, made it the perfect neutral ground.
Miles arrived first. Punctual, of course. She wore black as usual-structured, precise, powerful. Her expression? Blank. But her heart? Beating just a little faster than she'd allow.
Then came Arianna, fashionably late, in a sleek, off-shoulder dark red dress that said, This may be business, but I'm still me.
Miles didn't stand. But she did stare.
Arianna slid into the seat across from her, setting her phone down. "I told you I'd wear black."
Miles arched a brow. "That's not black."
"It's close enough. Deep red. Elegant. Legal-adjacent."
Miles's lips twitched, but she didn't smile. "Let's keep this focused. I reviewed the campaign clauses-"
Arianna leaned forward. "Do you ever turn off the CEO voice?"
"No."
"Shame. I bet your normal voice is kinda hot too."
Miles blinked, thrown for half a second. Then: "Arianna-"
"Relax," Arianna interrupted, waving the wine list. "I'll behave. Maybe."
They ordered. Small talk followed-well, attempted small talk.
Miles didn't do small talk. But somehow, Arianna kept dragging her into it.
"So..." Arianna twirled her wine. "Why law?"
Miles took a sip of water. "Because it's logical. Because rules matter. Because contracts are predictable."
Arianna raised a brow. "Wow. You really are allergic to chaos."
Miles tilted her head. "Why modeling?"
Arianna leaned back. "Because I like the stage. The noise. The thrill. Because it's chaos. And I've learned to love it."
A pause settled between them, soft and unexpected.
"You and I..." Arianna started, her voice quieter now, "we're not so different. You control things so they won't fall apart. I run toward the mess hoping something beautiful comes out of it."
Miles didn't answer right away. Her fingers traced the rim of her glass. "I don't have time for beautiful messes."
"Too bad," Arianna whispered. "Sometimes they're the best part."
Their eyes met. And for a second, the table between them vanished. Just air. Heat. Silence.
The waiter came with dessert, breaking the moment like a glass shattering.
"Thank you," Miles said quickly, focusing on the plate.
Arianna didn't press. She just smiled, quietly victorious.
As they stood to leave, Miles handed her a folded copy of the finalized campaign agreement.
"This is what I came for," she said firmly.
"Of course," Arianna replied, tucking it into her purse. Then, as they stepped into the night air, she added, "Still... if it had been a date, I'd give it a 9.5."
Miles didn't even flinch. "Your standards are low."
"But I like the view," Arianna said, before turning and walking away.
