At that moment, in one of San Francisco's most prestigious French restaurants.
A strikingly handsome couple sat across from each other.
"President Calvin," Aria, dressed in a dusky pink strapless gown, raised her glass of red wine.
"This toast is for you."
Others might not know, but she had done her homework.
The women accompanying President Calvin were usually just whichever rising star from his entertainment empire happened to be in rotation—changed every so often, never the same one twice.
She had assumed she'd be no different.
Still, the fame and clout she'd gained made it worth her while.
But today, she received another call from Assistant Jey, summoning her as President Calvin's plus-one for an evening event.
The thought brought a faint smirk to her lips. At the very least, it proved she stood out from the rest in his eyes.
The long-dormant thoughts in her heart began to stir once more.
Calvin didn't immediately raise his glass.
