enjoyebooks Chapter 14: The Invitation
Chapter 14: The Invitation
Diary Entry:
Date: September 15th
Time: 12:15 AM
Dear Diary,
Alec asked me to come to his mansion. He said we need to ‘prepare’ for meeting his grandfather, but it sounded more like he’s trying to coach me through a corporate presentation.
But tonight, something was… different.
He smiled. He touched my hand when he didn’t need to. And for the first time, I didn’t feel like I was faking anything.
-Ivy
Ivy’s breath caught in her throat.
Alec was watching her, his dark eyes searching, waiting for something—an answer, a reaction, a reason not to regret saying what he just did.
But Ivy’s thoughts were a tangled mess. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to think. Everything had felt fake for so long, but now? Now, it didn’t feel fake at all.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to look away.
“I need to go inside,” she murmured.
Alec hesitated for a second, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel, before he nodded. Like she’d just given him an answer, even if she hadn’t said anything.
She stepped out of the car, closing the door behind her, and didn’t look back.
Ivy stood awkwardly in the entryway of the Brayton mansion, fidgeting with the strap of her purse.
She’d been here before, but tonight felt different.
Alec descended the grand staircase like he owned the world, because in a way, he did. Dressed down in a crisp sweater and jeans, he looked annoyingly effortless. Relaxed, even. But Ivy knew better.
“You came,” he said simply, motioning for her to follow him into the dining room.
“You didn’t exactly give me a choice,” Ivy muttered, trailing behind him.
Dinner was... surprisingly normal. Too normal.
There was no lecture, no talk of his grandfather’s impossible expectations. No lists of dos and don’ts or threats about what would happen if she screwed up.
Instead, Alec poured her a glass of wine, his hand brushing hers as he set it down.
Ivy felt it— that brief, unintended spark.
And Alec didn’t pull away immediately.
“Relax,” he said, his tone softer than usual. “You’re wound tighter than Brandon’s bow ties.”
“Gee, thanks,” Ivy deadpanned, rolling her eyes, but she took a sip of the wine anyway.
Later, as they cleaned up, Alec handed her a dish towel. Their fingers brushed again, but this time, it lingered.
Ivy looked up. Alec was watching her—not with his usual calculating intensity, but something gentler.
“What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alec blinked, as if snapping out of it, and shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, but his eyes didn’t leave hers.
As Ivy headed for the door, Alec stepped closer. Close enough for her to feel his warmth, to catch the faintest scent of his cologne.
“Tomorrow,” he said softly, his voice low and deliberate. “You’ll do fine. I’ll make sure of it.”