Chapter 5 First Meet

Emma's POV

I slipped out of the Reynolds mansion at 6:15 AM, when the sky was still more purple than blue. Gavin wouldn't be up for another hour. The last thing I needed was sharing a car ride with him, pretending everything was normal when my world was imploding.

I headed straight to my design studio at Reynolds headquarters, where I immediately focused on the Starlight Collection.

Jessica arrived with coffee just as I was gathering my materials. "You're going to Summit Creative today?" she asked, eyeing the presentation folder on my desk.

"Yes, I decided last night to move the meeting up. I need to get this advertising campaign rolling," I replied, carefully placing the moon phase necklace prototype in its velvet case. "The sooner we get the right marketing strategy, the better."

"Want me to come with you?" Jessica offered, already checking her tablet for schedule conflicts.

I refused, "No need. I'd rather handle this one personally."

I carefully packed the presentation materials, including the delicate prototype necklace with its graduated sapphires and innovative platinum setting. This collection represented everything I believed in as a designer—technical precision with emotional resonance. If only my personal life had such clarity.

Summit Creative's Boston office was in a renovated warehouse in the Seaport District—trendy and modern compared to Reynolds' old-money headquarters.

The receptionist led me through an open workspace to a conference room where Summit's team was already gathering. That's when I first saw him.

Blake Carter stood by the window. Tall. Imposing. His dark hair was short and slightly messy. He had broad shoulders and a strong jaw. His amber eyes caught the light. Sharp. Observant. Something about him made my pulse quicken. He wore a charcoal suit. No tie. Top button open. He looked completely at ease. Confident. Unaffected by the corporate energy around him.

When our hands met in a brief handshake, I felt a surprising jolt of awareness.

"Emma Garcia," he said, his voice deeper than I expected. "Blake Carter. I've been looking forward to meeting the mind behind the Starlight Collection."

There was no smile, just a direct, assessing gaze that somehow felt more genuine than any practiced corporate pleasantry.

I carefully placed the prototype moon phase necklace on the table—nine graduated sapphires representing lunar phases, set in my signature platinum mounting that created an ethereal glow under any light.

"The centerpiece of the collection," I explained, watching as Blake leaned in to examine it.

His focus was absolute, almost unsettling in its intensity. He picked up the necklace with surprising care, his fingers, strong but unexpectedly gentle, turning the piece to catch the light.

"Remarkable craftsmanship," he said simply. "You've managed to make the stones appear to float."

Our fingers brushed as he handed the necklace back, and I felt that same unexpected awareness shimmer between us. For a moment, his amber eyes held mine.

For the next hour, I presented the collection concept while Blake and his team listened. But it was Blake who asked the questions that mattered—questions that showed he understood not just luxury branding but the technical aspects of jewelry design. He saw details others missed, appreciated nuances others overlooked.

When it was his turn to present, Blake commanded the room with quiet authority. No flashy gestures or corporate buzzwords, just clear vision and genuine passion for the creative concept.

"Luxury jewelry isn't just about status," he stated. "It's about capturing moments that transcend time."

He presented images of accomplished women in settings where they were making a difference, a surgeon in an operating room, a conductor before an orchestra, an architect at a building site, each wearing pieces from the Starlight Collection.

"These women don't need jewelry to shine," Blake said, his eyes finding mine across the table. "But your designs complement their brilliance rather than competing with it."

Something in his gaze made me wonder if he was speaking about more than just the jewelry. Throughout the presentation, I found myself drawn to his focus, his intensity, the way he seemed to see beyond surface impressions to essential truths.

As the meeting concluded and his team filed out, Blake approached me directly.

"Your angular cut on the sapphire—most designers would have gone with traditional rounds for a celestial theme," he observed. "But the angles create more dramatic light play."

I was surprised by his perception. "Most marketing people miss that distinction."

"I notice what matters," he replied simply, his eyes holding mine for a beat longer than necessary.

We shook hands again, brief and professional.

As I exited the building, I was startled to see Gavin's Bentley at the curb. He stepped out, looking uncharacteristically disheveled in a way that only someone who knew him well would notice—his tie slightly askew, a crease in his normally perfect shirt.

"Emma," he said, his voice softer than usual. "Let me drive you back."

His eyes held something I rarely saw there—uncertainty, perhaps even fear. Gavin Reynolds, who controlled everything in his orbit, suddenly looked like a man afraid of losing his grip.

I hesitated, thoughts of Blake's amber eyes and the unexpected connection I'd felt still lingering in my mind.