The old man on the other end of the line chuckled warmly. “Alright, I’ll leave it to you, Nancy. Honestly, you’re the only one I trust with this. That stubborn kid never listens to me, but if you can talk him around and convince him to come back, Grandpa Williams will personally start talking to your family about the engagement.”
A hint of hope flickered in Cynthia Lee’s eyes, though she kept her voice modest. “I’ll do what I can, but I can’t promise anything.”
Grandpa Williams wasn’t about to force the issue, either. He knew his grandson—Dennis was as headstrong as they come.
Still, what if it worked out? A girl like Nancy—every guy liked her, right? The thought made Mr. Morris even more convinced he was on the right track.
Cynthia didn’t linger on the call. She hung up, grabbed her bags, and headed out of the airport, where a driver was already waiting. Without delay, she was driven straight to Misty Vale Villa.
It was almost midnight—11:30 PM—when the doorbell rang. Dennis Williams was still buried in paperwork, the glow of his laptop lighting up the otherwise dark living room.
The late-night chime made him frown. He called out, “Aaron, can you get that?”
Aaron glanced at the clock, confused. “Who could it be at this hour? It can’t be Mr. Adams, can it?” Dennis didn’t know many people in Harrisburg. Besides Mr. Adams, there weren’t many who’d show up unannounced, especially this late.
But when Aaron opened the door, he was surprised to see Cynthia Lee standing there, suitcase in hand.
“Ms. Lee?” he blurted out. “What brings you here?”
Cynthia’s calm, graceful smile never wavered. “Hi, Aaron. I’m in Harrisburg for some business, and I thought I’d stop by to see Dennis. Is he still up?”
Aaron hesitated, unsure what to make of her late-night visit. “Uh, yeah… he’s still awake.”
He couldn’t help but wonder about Cynthia’s intentions. Who visits at nearly midnight unless they have an ulterior motive? Suddenly, Aaron remembered Mr. Morris’s cryptic words about sending someone, but he’d never guessed it would be Cynthia. Too late now, though. He hurried upstairs to let Dennis know.
Inside, Dennis set his files aside and headed for the entryway. When he saw Cynthia, his expression was polite but distant. “Business trip?”
She nodded, her eyes lingering on him a moment longer than necessary. It had been a long time since she’d seen Dennis—he looked as handsome as ever, crisp white shirt, black slacks, those wireframe glasses perched on his nose, all business and barely any warmth. Still, it was impossible not to feel a flutter of something.


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