Chapter 165
His phone buzzed against the mahogany desk. A notification from the private security service he had linked to their shared assets — an alert he had set up months ago, when he still did not fully trust her.
Charge Alert: $10,000 — MSG VIP Services, J. Wolfe Personal Account.
Gaston stopped writing. He picked up the phone and stared at the notification.
Basketball?
He raised an eyebrow. Jocelyn hated sports. She had once told him she thought golf was “a good walk spoiled.” Yet she had just purchased two courtside tickets for Friday night.
There was only one reason she would do that.
She wanted to go with him.
A warmth spread through his chest, slow and uncurling. She was trying. She was reaching out.
“Clear my schedule for Friday night, Vance,” Gaston said, his voice dropping an octave.
Vance glanced at his tablet. “You have a board dinner with the Japanese investors, sir. It’s been on the books for months.”
𝖩𝗼і𝗻 𝘵𝗵𝗼𝗎𝘀𝖺ո𝘥ѕ о𝗳 fа𝗻𝘴 𝘰ո 𝗀𝗮l𝗇𝗼𝗏е𝘭ѕ.𝖼𝘰m
“Cancel it,” Gaston said, tossing the phone back onto the desk. He leaned back in his chair, a quiet smirk settling on his lips. “My wife wants a date.”
Friday evening arrived with a slate-gray sky and a biting wind that rattled the penthouse windowpanes. Inside, the air was warm and smelled of expensive candles.
Jocelyn stood in the center of the living room, clutching a thick cream-colored envelope. Her palms were sweating.
She heard the elevator chime. The heavy doors slid open.
Gaston walked in — but not in his usual three-piece armor. He wore a dark navy blazer over a crisp white t-shirt and dark denim. He looked younger. Dangerous.
“You’re home early,” she said, her voice coming out more breathless than she intended.
“I cleared my schedule,” he replied. He moved toward her, his eyes locking onto hers with an expression that looked almost eager.
Jocelyn took a step forward. “I have a surprise for you.”
She extended the envelope. “For everything you did with the hotel. For handling the Schneiders. For being you.”
Gaston took it. His fingers brushed hers — a spark of static electricity that made them both flinch. He opened the envelope and drew out the ticket.
Knicks vs. Celtics. Row AA. Seat 1.
“Courtside.” He smiled — a genuine smile, the kind that creased the corners of his eyes. Jocelyn’s knees went quietly unreliable. “Impressive.”
“I want you to have a fun night,” she said carefully, reciting the lines she had rehearsed in the mirror. “With the person you care about.”
Gaston’s heart skipped a beat. The person you care about.
She meant herself. She was being shy. It was adorable.
“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, his voice dropping low. He stepped closer, narrowing the space between them. “It’s a perfect gift.”
“Great!” Jocelyn exhaled, relieved he wasn’t offended. “The other ticket is waiting for the lucky guy. I had it left at Will Call under his name.”
She stumbled slightly over the words. She could not bring herself to say Vance’s name. It felt too intrusive — too exposing.
Gaston paused. Lucky guy?
.