At precisely six o'clock, Davis received a message from Isabella Sterling.
Mr. Blackwood, I would like to invite you to dinner this evening. There are several business matters I'd like to discuss. I hope you can make it.
Davis read the message twice.
Then he glanced at the system.
[NEW SOCIAL OPPORTUNITY DETECTED.]
[POTENTIAL ALLIANCE: ISABELLA STERLING.]
[POTENTIAL BENEFITS: BUSINESS NETWORK EXPANSION, PROPERTY INVESTMENT OPPORTUNITIES, AND PERSONAL RELATIONSHIP DEVELOPMENT.]
Davis frowned.
"Does this system intend to interfere with every conversation I have?"
[SYSTEM RESPONSE: THE SYSTEM PROVIDES INFORMATION. THE HOST RETAINS FULL AUTONOMY.]
"Good."
He typed a reply.
I'd be happy to attend. What time?
Her answer arrived almost immediately.
Seven-thirty. The restaurant is called Maison Aurelle. I'll send you the address.
Davis smiled.
He had no idea why the invitation made him feel slightly nervous.
Perhaps it was because Isabella was the first woman he had found genuinely interesting since Sidney.
Perhaps it was because, unlike Sidney, Isabella didn't seem interested in pretending to be someone she wasn't.
Or perhaps it was simply because he was still learning how to trust people again.
At seven twenty-five, Davis arrived at Maison Aurelle.
The restaurant occupied the top floor of a luxury hotel overlooking the river. Its dining room featured enormous windows, elegant lighting, and a pianist playing softly near the entrance.
"Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?"
"I'm meeting Miss Sterling."
Her expression immediately changed.
"Of course, sir. Please follow me."
Isabella was seated beside the window.
She wore a dark blue evening dress that complemented her hazel eyes. Her chestnut hair fell over one shoulder, and a delicate necklace rested against her collarbone.
When she saw Davis, she smiled.
"You're punctual."
"I was taught that time is money."
"Then you must be extremely wealthy."
"Not as wealthy as the owner of this restaurant, apparently."
She laughed.
Davis took the seat opposite her.
For the first few minutes, they discussed Sterling Tower and the future of the surrounding commercial district.
Isabella was surprised by how much Davis knew about property valuation, investment strategy, and corporate restructuring.
"You really did study business at Oxford," she remarked.
"Would you like to see my certificate?"
"No. I'm beginning to suspect that you might actually know what you're doing."
"That's a relief."
Their conversation gradually moved away from business.
Isabella asked about his family.
Davis's expression softened.
"My parents died when I was younger. I was their only child."
"I'm sorry."
"Thank you."
"My father did. He believed that a company should serve its employees as well as its shareholders. My mother was the person who kept our family together."
"What happened to their company?"
Davis looked out of the window.
"It collapsed after they died. The official explanation was financial mismanagement, but I've recently discovered some inconsistencies."
Isabella's expression grew serious.
"Have you considered that someone might have deliberately destroyed it?"
"I have."
"Be careful, Davis. The people who control large amounts of money don't always appreciate someone investigating their past."
He studied her.
"Is that advice from experience?"
She smiled faintly.
"More than you know."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Isabella raised her glass.
"To new beginnings."
Davis raised his own.
"To new beginnings."
Their glasses touched.
Outside, the city's lights shimmered against the dark river.
Neither of them knew that the dinner would eventually become a memory they would revisit for years.
For now, it was simply two people discovering that they had more in common than either had expected.
And for Davis, that was already something worth protecting.