Emily arched an eyebrow at Tristan. "You can come, but no arguments, no fighting, and absolutely no sulking. Clear?"

Tristan shot her an indignant look. “Do I really seem like that kind of person to you?"

She gave him a pointed glance. "Look, we're going there today to ask for a favor. We need to be polite. No drama."

Tristan protested, "I know how to behave, you know. You should have a little faith in me."

"Let's hope so," Emily replied, deliberately teasing.

"What do you mean, let's hope so?"

The restaurant they'd chosen was one Emily's secretary often booked for meetings -calm, elegant, with top-notch food and a private dining room that exuded quiet sophistication. It was the sort of place reserved for important guests.

When Emily and Tristan arrived, Andrew Lane wasn't there yet, so they went ahead and ordered.

While choosing dishes, Emily purposely skipped anything sweet.

Tristan, watching her closely, feigned indifference. "Andrew Lane doesn't like sweet food?"

Emily paused, glanced at him, and nodded.

Tristan smiled, his expression unreadable. "You certainly remember his preferences after all these years."

Emily sighed and set down the menu. "What did I tell you before we came?"

Tristan pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Emily handed the menu to the waiter. "We want Andrew Lane to feel comfortable tonight; if we get his approval, this whole thing will be much easier."

Tristan lowered his voice, sounding a little sulky. "Yeah, I know."

Just then, Andrew Lane arrived.

It was the first time Emily had seen him since Isabella Austin's passing a few days earlier.

Andrew looked exactly as he always did-impeccably tailored suit, hair perfectly in place, not a trace of disarray. There was no sign of grief or fatigue. His gaze was calm, detached, unchanged.

It seemed as though Isabella's death hadn't touched him at all.

Emily remembered the unanswered message she'd sent him. She gave him a polite nod. “Mr. Lane, please have a seat.”

Andrew nodded in return, glanced briefly at Tristan, then unbuttoned his jacket and sat down.

Emily watched as the waiter poured Andrew a cup of tea. She waited until he'd taken a sip before speaking. "I've already ordered, but please look over the menu and let us know if you'd like anything else.”

Andrew took the menu from the waiter, flipped through the pages, noting Emily's choices. He turned to the last page, then handed it back without adding anything. "This looks good. You've ordered well."

Tristan felt a muscle in his temple twitch.

Emily smiled coolly. "Let's eat first, and then we can talk."

Unexpectedly, Andrew said, "No need. Let's talk now."

Emily hesitated.

Andrew continued, "The company has agreed to authorize your project. Just follow the usual procedures. If you need, our official Travel Rabbit account can help issue a statement."

Emily felt a flicker of suspicion.

He had just laid out everything she'd come here to discuss, before she'd even said a word.

It couldn't be that simple.

She asked, "Do you have any conditions, Mr. Lane?”

Andrew's eyes grew darker, more intent. "Yes, I do."

Oddly, his having a condition put Emily at ease. At least this way, she wouldn't feel like she owed him.

A clean transaction was the best way to manage things between them—no debts, no lingering ties.

Emily gave a small, composed smile. "Go ahead."

Andrew said, "Tomorrow morning, come with me somewhere."

It was an unexpected request. Emily had assumed he'd make some demand related

to the company.

She didn't agree right away. "Is there something you need?"