Page 56 of Falling for My Ex Next Door

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Daisy insisted on sitting in the backseat with Clara, chatting animatedly all the way home. I was relegated to the role of the silent chauffeur, my presence seemingly forgotten. Once or twice, I caught Clara’s eyes on me in the rearview mirror. I didn’t look away, and she eventually had to break eye contact.

When we finally got home, I wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed, but Daisy had other plans. She wanted to extend the evening with an “after-party” at Clara’s place. So Clara invited us over.

However, the night took a turn when Daisy, having had too much to drink, ended up throwing up. Shortly after, she drifted off to sleep, leaving me alone with Clara once more.

The silence between us was thick, and after a few minutes, I decided to break it.

“I don’t believe I should apologize for earlier,” I began, my voice steady. “I only expressed my feelings.”

Clara looked at me, her eyes soft but unreadable. “I don’t want an apology,” she said firmly. “And I’m glad you’re not sorry.”

I nodded, feeling a small weight lift off my shoulders.

“Thanks for today,” she added quietly.

“Anytime,” I replied, managing a small smile.

I knew I had to leave immediately. She assisted me with Daisy so I could carry her piggyback. As we stood at the doorway, ready to part ways, I hesitated.

“Clara,” I started, my heart pounding. “What do I have to do to gain your trust and win you back?”

She looked down, then back up at me, her eyes searching mine. “Jacob, it’s not about grand gestures or promises. It’s about consistency and honesty. I need to see that you’re willing to put in the effort every single day.”

“I can do that,” I said earnestly. “I want to do that.”

Clara sighed, a mix of hope and uncertainty in her eyes. “We’ll see, Jacob. Just take it one step at a time.”

“Goodnight, Clara,” I said softly.

“Goodnight,” she replied, a faint smile on her lips.

That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Thoughts of Clara ran through my mind, a constant loop of hope and doubt. As the first light of dawn crept through my window, I knew one thing for certain: I wasn’t giving up on her. Not now, not ever.

As soon as I arrived at work, Jackson prepared for me to meet with an investor from South America who contacted us a while back. As the meeting progressed, I knew he was a shrewd businessman.

“Our portfolio has consistently outperformed the market,” I stated, confidently.

He leaned forward, with his eyes, calculating. “I can understand these short-term successes, but what about the long run?”

I smiled. “The market is volatile, but we always have innovative strategies to weather the storm.”

“Innovative?” He squinted his eyes, a hint of skepticism in his tone. “Tell me, Mr. Bradley, what sets your fund apart from the rest?”

“Well, I don’t think you’ve heard of the “proprietary algorithm.” I reclined in my chair.

“Tell me.”

“It’s a machine learning model that uses neural networks and natural language processing to identify patterns in the market. It also makes quick and informed decisions after the general assessment. I assure you, it’s unlike anything else on the market.” I explained, hoping to have convinced him.

He raised an eyebrow, seeming quite impressed. “That sounds intriguing, but I have heard such claims before. How do I know you’re different, that those words are not a bunch of buzzwords?”

“Our returns speak for themselves, and our clients would agree,” I replied.

However, his face remained neutral, and I wondered if his decision was going to waver with what I had said.

“I am very well aware of the fact that clients can be swayed by a slick sales pitch. I’m quite interested in hard data. Could you show me the numbers?”

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