Uncharted Hearts: From Casual to Forever

008~ REASON.

Aria

I sauntered down the bustling hallway of the clothing brand headquarters, each click of my heels echoing with purpose against the polished floor. Beside me, the regional sales manager of one of our stores matched my stride as my discerning eyes delved into a document detailing the progress of the sale from the store carrying our collection, firmly clutched in my hand.

My brow furrowed as I muttered, "Take a look at this. The store pulled in only millions, and it's light-years away from our sales target."

I halted and theatrically waved the report in his direction.

He glanced over the document and replied, "We'll kick it up a notch, madam."

A sigh escaped me, laced with the subtle frustration that lingered in my voice. I swung the door open, stepping into the vibrant studio where the air crackled with creative energy. My gaze fixated on the unfolding photoshoot, a captivating dance of colours and textures.

Theo Walker exuded confidence as he struck poses for the camera, effortlessly embodying the essence of the denim jacket and pants I had meticulously designed. It was almost as if these clothes were tailor-made for him, and a surge of pride swelled within me as I witnessed my creations come to life.

Approaching the scene, a photographer hustled towards me, a wide grin etched across his face.

"Mr. Walker is killing it, as usual. The shots are phenomenal, and we're already wrapping it up," he exclaimed, a contagious excitement in his voice.

My shoulders relaxed, a relieved sigh escaping my lips. Finally, something was aligning in my favour today.

"It wouldn't be a triumph without you and your team," I complimented, my eyes fixed on Theo as he lay on the studio floor. With deliberate ease, he undid the buttons of the jacket, showcasing his bare chest while locking eyes with the camera.

I couldn't help but think, "s**t, the ladies are going to lose it when we unleash these pictures." The photographer extended an invitation to view the captured moments, and as I surveyed the images, satisfaction painted my expression. It was indeed a success – a visual symphony of style and charisma that would undoubtedly make waves in the fashion world.

"Excellent work. It is perfect," I commended, a genuine smile playing on my lips, as I basked in the success of Theo's photoshoot.

As the euphoria lingered, I couldn't help but inquire about the female actress.

The photographer hesitated, creating momentary suspense before delivering the news, "She tried her best, but it lacks that spark. It would've been perfect if Nova Harper had taken the shoot."

My brows furrowed, absorbing the information like a puzzle that needed solving. He showcased some of the pictures they had captured, and I couldn't deny that a distinct something was missing.

I had originally envisioned Nova as the model, but conflicting schedules led me to choose the actress, guided by her talent manager. I reluctantly agreed, trusting his assurance that she would deliver.

"You don't need to worry too much. We can reshoot tomorrow. She just needs the right guidance," the photographer reassured me, injecting confidence into his words.

"I will trust you on this then," I replied with a reassuring smile, counting on the expertise of the creative team to bring out the best in our chosen actress.

Spotting the manager across the room, deeply engrossed in a conversation with the actress he had recommended, a pang of curiosity laced with concern surged through me. The actress, visibly disheartened, cast her gaze downwards, fixating on her shoes. I couldn't help but wonder about the dynamics of their discussion and what might have transpired during that crucial exchange.

The manager smoothly shifted his focus, gracefully dismissing the actress before making his purposeful way toward me.

"Good afternoon," he greeted, a mix of politeness and genuine concern in his demeanour.

"Good afternoon," I replied, acknowledging his presence with a nod.

"She thinks she fell short in the shoot, and the photographer mentioned a missing spark. I feel like I let you down," he confessed, his words weighed with a sincere sense of remorse.

Reassuringly, I responded, "It's okay. The photographer promised to make it right tomorrow. I trust him; he doesn't make promises he can't fulfil." I wanted to convey that setbacks were inherent in the creative process and that I remained confident in the photographer's ability to rectify the situation.

As my words settled in, a subtle change overcame the manager's countenance, his face lighting up with gratitude for the understanding and support offered.

"Thank you so much, Miss. Carter," he expressed his gratitude before excusing himself, presumably to relay the comforting news to the concerned actress. As he approached her, breaking the news, a visible transformation occurred in her demeanour. The initial gloom lifted, replaced by a glimmer of hope and optimism.

"Love," Theo called, and in an instant, I found myself enveloped in his arms, a surprising familiarity that left me questioning the evolution of our interactions. When did it become acceptable for him to hug me? And why on earth was he now calling me "Love"?

"Nice to see you again," Theo's voice resonated with genuine happiness as our brief embrace concluded, a warmth that caught me slightly off guard. At that moment, our connection seemed to transcend the casual acquaintance we once were.

My gaze involuntarily lingered, drawn to the unexpected sight of his bare chest, a subtle yet alluring detail that added an unexpected layer to the encounter.

"Pervert," he playfully accused, catching my lingering glance. I quickly shook my head in denial, attempting to mask my inadvertent curiosity. His chuckle suggested he wasn't entirely convinced, adding a lighthearted element to the teasing exchange.

Glancing around the room, Theo smoothly shifted gears, inquiring, "So, we're done here, right?"

"Yes," I confirmed, a simple affirmation that marked the conclusion of our current engagement.

A sense of relief washed over me as a girl hurried over with a phone, Theo's attention momentarily diverted as he took the call. The brief respite allowed me to collect my thoughts, and I couldn't help but marvel at the swift change in dynamics.

Breathing a quiet sigh, I observed Theo's animated conversation, the mischievous grin playing on his lips as he engaged with the person on the other end of the line. What secrets did that grin hold? The mystery only deepened.

In the wake of his conversation, Theo turned to me with a playful glint in his eyes, declaring, "I'll treat you to lunch." The unexpected invitation hung in the air, carrying a mix of intrigue and uncertainty.

"Tell the driver to get the car ready," he instructed the girl with the phone, a seamless transition from one directive to the next. The girl nodded in acknowledgement and hastened away to fulfil the given task.

"See you downstairs, Love," he added casually, walking away with purpose, leaving me momentarily stunned. The endearing term caught me off guard, and before I could formulate a response, he was already making his exit, the opportunity to decline to slip away like a fleeting moment.

I found myself standing in the underground car park, where Theo awaited. His attire had changed from the photoshoot outfit, and he gestured for me to join him in his car. As the engine roared to life, he seized the moment to delve into a line of inquiry.

"There is something I am quite curious about," he began, his gaze piercing as he stared directly into my eyes. "Did you happen to know Lucas before the party?" The question hung in the air, laden with a curiosity that sparked my intrigue.

"No," I responded, a subtle denial escaping my lips as I instinctively looked away. His laughter rippled through the car, a low chuckle that resonated with an intriguing amusement.

"This is interesting," he remarked, his amusement lingering as the car seamlessly glided towards our destination.

The true meaning behind his words unravelled when we arrived at the restaurant. Regret surged within me, a realization that I should have sensed the mischievous undertones the moment that cheeky expression crossed his face.

Turning to Theo, seeking an explanation for my immediate predicament, I found him winking conspiratorially. The revelation struck me – this cunning manoeuvre was orchestrated by him! Theo's calculated mischief became evident in that cheeky expression, and I couldn't help but grapple with the unfolding scenario as we stepped into the restaurant.

Fuck me!