Monday morning came with the quiet hum of city life waking up, and Ava found herself standing at her mirror longer than usual. Her fingers paused at the clasp of her earring as her thoughts drifted to Ethan — to their weekend together, to his words still echoing in her mind: "Let me be part of your world." She'd said yes. She'd meant it. But now came the harder part: living it.
Her phone buzzed. A calendar reminder flashed.
10:00 AM – Meet with Madison Bloom, new luxury client (potential full campaign takeover).
Ava sighed. Madison Bloom. She'd heard of her — the kind of high-profile client who loved the sound of her own name and tested every account manager until they snapped or learned how to flatter her properly.
She grabbed her bag and left the apartment with a mental note to text Ethan later. They hadn't talked since Saturday night. Maybe tonight, if the day didn't spiral.
The meeting was held in a glass-paneled conference room overlooking the Thames. Ava walked in confidently, greeted her team, and turned to the woman already seated at the head of the table. Madison Bloom — sharp bob, sharper eyes, manicured smile.
"Ms. Carter," Madison said, rising to shake Ava's hand. "I've heard good things about you."
"And I've heard you expect nothing but excellence," Ava replied with a composed smile.
Madison grinned, clearly entertained. "Let's see if you can keep up."
The meeting went well — or, at least, Ava thought so. Madison was exacting, dismissive of most suggestions, but Ava held her own. When the team dispersed, Madison stayed behind.
"You're impressive," she said, crossing one leg over the other. "Have dinner with me tonight. I want to talk through some branding ideas off-record. No pressure."
Ava hesitated. "Tonight? I—actually, I have plans."
"With your boyfriend?"
Ava blinked. That wasn't in the conversation.
Madison laughed lightly. "Relax, darling. You're not the first ambitious woman to juggle a love life and a career. Just consider it. Eight o'clock. La Scala."
Ava nodded slowly, unsure whether it was a genuine invitation or a test. Either way, she didn't answer.
When she finally stepped out into the early afternoon sun, her phone lit up again.
Ethan: Want to meet for a late lunch? I miss your face.
Her chest tightened with warmth and guilt.
Ava: I miss yours too. Wish I could, but I'm slammed today. Can we talk tonight?
Ethan: Always. Want me to come over?
She hesitated. She thought about Madison. About how quickly one evening could define the next phase of her career. About how hard she'd worked to get here.
Ava: Let me get through the day. I'll call you later, okay?
She didn't send another message.
That evening, Ava stood outside La Scala at 7:59, heels clicking on the marble steps. She'd changed out of her day suit into a midnight blue cocktail dress — professional, but with just enough edge to make a statement. It wasn't about impressing Madison. It was about showing up as someone who could hold her own.
Inside, the restaurant buzzed with soft music and richer conversation. Madison was already seated, swirling red wine in her glass.
"You came," she said with a knowing smile.
"I'm here for the brand," Ava replied smoothly, slipping into the seat opposite her.
Dinner was unexpectedly stimulating. Madison wasn't just a diva — she was smart, wildly creative, and brimming with ideas. Halfway through, Ava felt herself forgetting the unease. Until Madison leaned forward, voice low.
"You and I are alike, you know. Ambition like yours doesn't play second to a man."
Ava stiffened slightly. "What makes you think it has to?"
"It always does eventually. That's the cost. But you — you don't seem like someone who compromises."
Ava didn't answer. She sipped her wine, suddenly aware of how far she was from Ethan in this moment — physically, emotionally.
By the time she got home, it was nearly 11. Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a missed call from Ethan.
She sank onto her couch, kicked off her shoes, and dialed back.
He picked up almost instantly.
"Ava," he said, his voice low and calm. "You okay?"
"I'm sorry I didn't call sooner. Things ran late. The client wanted dinner."
There was a pause. "Madison Bloom, right?"
Ava frowned. "How did you know?"
"I saw it in the press. She's been linked to three scandals this year alone. She chews through creatives like appetizers. I just hope you're careful."
Ava exhaled slowly. "I know how to handle myself, Ethan."
"I didn't say you didn't," he replied gently. "I'm just... trying to be part of your world, remember?"
The words hung between them. Soft. Honest.
"I know," Ava said, her voice quieter now. "I'm trying too. I really am."
Another pause. Then: "Do you want me to come over?"
Ava looked at the clock. The weight of the day pulled at her bones.
"Yes," she said finally. "But just to sleep. No talking. No pressure. Just... be here."
"I'm already on my way."
Ethan arrived twenty minutes later. Ava let him in wordlessly, and they curled up on the couch under the same throw blanket they'd used their first night together. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in his scent — warmth, steadiness, home.
And for a while, there was silence. Not cold or strained — just the kind that came when someone knew you well enough to say nothing at all.