Page 23 of In Another Time

“Mr. Harper,” one of the officials said, shaking my hand firmly. “This is a fantastic addition to the city. We’re excited to see the impact it will have.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Notes of Soulis about more than just food—it’s about history, connection, and community. I’m honored to bring this vision to life.”

“And you’ve done an amazing job.” Anya chimed in, beaming at me. “He’s been working nonstop for months to make this happen.”

I nodded, accepting the praise but feeling a small twinge of something I couldn’t quite name. Pride, sure—but also disbelief at how far I’d come.

After a few more introductions and photos, Anya and I finally stepped inside. The restaurant was packed, every table filled with customers enjoying the food and ambiance. Smooth jazz played softly in the background, blending perfectly with the chatter and clinking of glasses.

“This is incredible, babe,” Anya said, squeezing my hand.

“It is,” I replied, scanning the room to make sure everything was running smoothly. “How are we looking on the wedding planning?”

“We’re ahead of schedule,” she said with a playful smirk. “But you still owe me your guest list.”

I chuckled. “I’ll get to it. Things have just been. . . busy.”

“I know,” she said, her tone softening. “But don’t forget, this is important too.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” I assured her.

She smiled, leaning up to kiss me. “Good. Now let’s make sure everyone’s enjoying themselves.”

As we moved through the restaurant, greeting guests and checking in with staff, I couldn’t ignore the sense of contentment that had settled over my life. I was in a good place, professionallyand personally. Anya was everything I thought I wanted in a partner: smart, supportive, and easy to be with.

But sometimes, late at night when I closed my eyes, a different face would slip into my thoughts. One I hadn’t seen in a year but still lingered in the shadows of my mind.

I shook the thought away, focusing on the moment. I had everything I needed, and I wasn’t about to jeopardize it by looking back. This was my life now. And I was determined to make it work.

LENNOX

The smell of bacon tickled my nose as I stirred awake, the silk sheets cool against my skin. My first thought was that I must be dreaming—no one else had the key to my apartment. Well, no one except the man who had no business still being there.

I sighed, slipping out of bed and shrugging on my robe. My feet slid into my plush slippers as I made my way through the vast expanse of my high-rise apartment. It was one of the perks of my new position. This place screamed success. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the city skyline, the sleek marble floors gleamed, and every piece of furniture was handpicked for style and comfort.

I loved my apartment. It was a symbol of everything I’d worked for—leaving Arbor Hills, uprooting my life, andthrowing myself into running the new Chicago firm as president. The past year had been everything I dreamed of professionally. Our numbers were unmatched, and I’d earned a reputation as a force to be reckoned with in the corporate world. Promotions, bonuses, and accolades poured in like clockwork.

I thought back to the ribbon-cutting ceremony last quarter, where I stood next to the CEO, my tailored suit and polished confidence stealing the show. That was the life I had built—success, independence, and prestige. There was no room for distractions or compromises. Relationships? Love? They were the last thing on my mind, or at least that was what I kept telling myself. But beneath the surface of my independence, my career, and my wealth, there was. . . something missing.

Loneliness crept in when I let my mind linger too long, but I didn’t dwell on it. Loneliness wasn’t fatal; it was just a side effect of prioritizing my dreams over anything or anyone else. I’d live.

The smell of bacon grew stronger as I rounded the corner into the kitchen. Standing at my stove, flipping bacon like he owned the place, was Justin.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said without turning around. His deep, husky voice grated on my nerves and pulled at something in my chest I didn’t care to name.

I folded my arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Just, why are you still here? I told you last night?—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. His long locs were pulled back into a low ponytail, revealing sharp cheekbones and a jawline that looked like it could cut glass. His chest and arms—tattooed and chiseled—were bare, and he wore nothing but gray sweatpants slung low on his hips. “I figured I’d make you breakfast,” he said. “You work hard. You deserve someone to take care of you every once in a while.”

I sighed, stepping into the kitchen and sitting at the island. “I appreciate the thought, but we’ve talked about this. What we have?—”

“What we have is nothing more than the bedroom.” He interrupted again, this time setting the plate of bacon on the counter. “I’m tired of this shit, Lennox. Tired of coming over, dicking you down, and then being told to leave like I’m just?—”

“A good time?” I offered, raising an eyebrow.

His jaw clenched, and I could see the frustration bubbling beneath his calm demeanor. “This shit’s crazy,” he muttered. “You don’t let anyone in. Not really. Why do you even bother with me if all you want is sex?”

“Because you’re pretty good at it,” I said simply, my tone light. “And I enjoy our time. But I’ve told you from the beginning—I don’t want a relationship.”

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