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*Love No More*
*Chapter 8*: The Jealousy + Client Dinner
The restaurant was expensive. Too expensive.
Crystal glasses. White tablecloths. And me, Abigail Adams, in a black dress I borrowed from my sister, sitting across from Daniel Carter.
"Smile," he said, not looking at me. "The clients are watching."
"Yes, sir."
Mr. and Mrs. Bello. Billionaire real estate clients.
And their son. Tunde Bello. 29. Six-pack. Dimples. The kind of man that makes aunties say "this one will marry well."
He sat next to me.
"So you’re Daniel’s new PA," Tunde said, leaning in. "You’re very... efficient. I’ve heard."
His hand "accidentally" brushed mine under the table.
I pulled back. "Thank you, Mr. Bello."
Across the table, Daniel’s fork paused. Just for a second.
Dinner went on. Wine. Laughs. Deals.
Tunde kept talking to me. Asking about school. About Surulere. About if I was single.
"She’s not," Daniel said suddenly.
The table went quiet.
Tunde blinked. "Sorry?"
Daniel set his wine down. Calm. Cold.
"I said she’s not single."
He looked at me. Eyes dark. "Are you, Abigail?"
My mouth went dry.
"S-sir, I—"
"Answer the question."
" No, sir," I whispered. "I’m not single."
Lie.
But his eyes said _say it_.
Tunde laughed awkwardly. "Ah. My bad."
The rest of dinner was torture.
Daniel didn’t look at me again. Not once.
In the car after, silence.
"Sir, about what I said—"
"Don’t." His voice was ice.
"You did well tonight. The Bellos signed."
"Thank you, sir."
He pulled over. Not at my house. At a park. Empty. 11 PM.
"Get out."
"Sir?"
"Get out, Abigail. Now."
I did. Shaking.
He followed. Stood in front of me under a streetlight.
"Are you dating someone?"
"What?"
"At dinner. You said no. Was that a lie for me, or a lie for him?"
I stared at him. "I’m not dating anyone, sir."
"Then why did you say it?"
"Because you told me to!"
My voice cracked. "Because you get that look and everyone in the room freezes and I— I didn’t want to get fired!"
He stepped closer.
"And what if I wanted you to say it because it’s true?"
My breath caught.
Daniel ran a hand over his face. Mask gone.
"I don’t do this. I don’t get jealous. I don’t care who talks to my staff."
A bitter laugh. "But you, Abigail... you in that dress. Talking to him. Laughing."
He shook his head. "It made me want to break something."
"Sir, I—"
"Don’t sir me right now."
He was so close I could feel his breath.
"Tell me to back off. Tell me this is inappropriate. Tell me anything so I stop feeling like this."
I couldn’t.
Because my heart was screaming _don’t stop_.
"Say something," he whispered.
The streetlight buzzed.
And I said the worst thing I could say.
"Yes, sir."
He closed his eyes.
"God help me."
He drove me home in silence.
But before I got out, he grabbed my wrist. Gentle.
"Next client dinner, you’re sitting next to me. That’s an order."
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Ready for *Chapter 9: The Office + The Scar* next? That’s where she sees why he’s so cold 👀
