I Don’t Want the Reunion Voucher You Never Meant to Give Me Chapter 02

I Don’t Want the Reunion Voucher You Never Meant to Give Me Chapter 02

At the morning meeting the next day, Adrian set a cup of hot oat-milk latte in front of me.

“Still upset?”

I didn’t answer.

He pulled out the chair beside me, sat down, brushed the back of his hand against the cup.

“It’s hot. Drink it before it gets cold, or your stomach will act up again and you’ll say I don’t take care of you.”

Someone in the conference room laughed.

“Mr. Cole always knows how to smooth things over. I’d say Elise has to forgive you now.”

Adrian glanced at me, one eyebrow raised.

“Hear that? The red carpet’s rolled out. Don’t just stand there.”

Ivy stood by the projector, laptop hugged to her chest, eyes still a little swollen.

When she caught me looking, she offered quietly:

“Elise, Mr. Cole only drove me to the ER last night. Please don’t misread it.”

Adrian tapped the table. “Relax. She’s not that petty.”

I picked up the latte, took a sip.

The corner of his mouth had just started to lift when Ivy pulled up the event program.

The room went silent a second later.

On the screen was the seating chart sent to the client the night before—all twelve guest names and seats, completely wrong.

The client was already downstairs.

If this version went out, the whole launch would be a joke.

Ivy started shaking.

“I definitely checked it. Elise was the one who told me to send it.”

Every head turned to me.

I looked up. “I didn’t write that file. It never came through me.”

Adrian spun his pen, voice flat.

“You’re her mentor. She’s afraid to come to you, so you’re just going to wash your hands of it?”

I looked at him.

“Last night, you told her not to bother me.”

“I told her not to poke the bear while you were angry. I didn’t tell you to abandon her.”

“So this is my fault after all?”

“Elise, this isn’t the time to argue about who’s right.”

He set the pen down.

“The client’s already here. Fix it first.”

“Apologize to Ivy—don’t let her work through this rattled.”

I thought I’d misheard him.

“She’s new. You’re the senior one.”

“She’s this shaken because of you, and you expect her to keep working like nothing happened?”

Adrian looked at me, his tone almost patient.

“Don’t make me say something harsh in front of everyone.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Do you really have to make this a whole thing?”

I clenched my fists. “And if I don’t apologize?”

He leaned closer, tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

The gesture looked intimate; his voice dropped low.

“Elise. Don’t make me embarrass you in front of this many people.”

“Behave, and I’ll take you to dinner tonight.”

Looking at his face, so close to mine, I suddenly remembered college—how he’d split his eyebrow open in a fight defending me.

Back then he said anyone who made me lower my head would kneel and apologize to him.

I used to think that was the confidence he gave me.

So why, later, was he the one who made me lower my head more than anyone else?

Something in my chest twisted, a dull, heavy ache.

I stood up and told Ivy:

“I’m sorry.”

Ivy hurried to wipe her tears.

“Elise, don’t do this. It’s like he forced you. I really don’t blame you.”

Adrian smiled.

“She’s just stubborn. Once she talks it out she’s fine.”

I spent the next hour fixing the whole program, then called the brand partner to apologize personally.

At the end of the rehearsal, Ivy tripped on a cable and a full glass of red wine went straight down the front of my dress.

Adrian pulled her into his arms almost by instinct.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, face buried against his chest.

“I’m fine. Elise’s dress, though—”

Only then did he look at me.

Wine dripped down the hem, sticking to my legs. He frowned.

“How much was it? I’ll pay for it.”

“You gave me this for my birthday last year.”

“Even better. I’ll buy you a new one.”

He took off his suit jacket. I reached out for it out of instinct—and watched him turn and drape it over Ivy’s shoulders instead.

“The AC’s cold. She was running a fever last night.”

Ivy huddled inside his jacket, asking softly, “Does she hate me?”

Adrian ruffled her hair, eyes still on my face.

“She doesn’t hate you.”

He paused, smiled, careless.

“She just loves me too much.”

The people around us laughed along.

I stood there in the middle of that laughter and, for a second, couldn’t even feel the humiliation anymore.

Adrian held out his hand.

“Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Didn’t I promise you dinner?”

He took my wrist like nothing had happened.

“You’re the star tonight. Anything you want, it’s yours.”