Max, who had been silently observing, looked at her with a mix of surprise and concern.
Smirking evilly, Summer declared, "It's time to scare that Trash-tin more!"
Max's eyes widened in shock and fear at her resolve. "Summer, are you sure this is the best way?"
"Absolutely," Summer replied, her voice steely with determination. "He started this. I'll finish it."
Max sighed, realizing there was no talking her out of it. "Just... be careful, Summer."
Summer's eyes softened for a moment as she looked at him. "Don't worry, Max. I know what I'm doing."
But as Max watched her, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get even more complicated.
Two days after being discharged from the hospital, Summer sat in her study room, the afternoon sunlight streaming through the large windows of her private apartment. She was diligently working through her backlog when an email notification popped up on her screen. It was from her long-time publisher friend, Mitchell.
**Subject: Invitation to the Crescent Poet Gathering in Paris**
Her heart skipped a beat. The Crescent Poet Gathering was a prestigious event where celebrated poets from around the world, known only by their pen names, would meet. Summer was renowned in the literary world as "Alma Bendita," a name that carried significant weight and mystique.
As she read the invitation, a smile crept across her face. The idea of escaping to Paris for a while was tempting. She needed a breather after the recent turmoil and the gunshot incident. Plus, it would be a good way to avoid her family and friends discovering her sling and asking uncomfortable questions.
Decision made, she quickly typed out her RSVP, confirming her attendance. She felt a thrill of excitement she hadn't experienced in a while. Poetry was her passion, a secret part of her life that she cherished.
Picking up her phone, she called Max. He answered on the first ring.
"Hey, Summer. How are you holding up?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.
"I'm okay, Max. Actually, I have some news," she began. "I've been invited to the Crescent Poet Gathering in Paris. I'm leaving tomorrow for ten days."
Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wow, that's amazing! But are you sure you're up for it? You just got out of the hospital."
"I need this, Max," she replied firmly. "I need a break, and I don't want anyone to see me like this. Also, it's been a while since I indulged in my poetry. You know how much I love it."
Max sighed. "Alright. I'll arrange your itinerary discreetly. But you have to promise me you'll take it easy and stay safe."
"I will. And please continue the investigation about the masquerade ball incident. Keep me in the loop over the phone."
"Of course. Anything else?" Max asked, his tone softening with concern.
"Just... thanks, Max. For everything," Summer said, her voice betraying a hint of emotion.
"Always, Summer. You know I've got your back," he replied warmly.
As she hung up, Summer felt a sense of anticipation build within her. Paris beckoned, and with it, a chance to immerse herself in her beloved poetry and find some solace away from the chaos. She was ready to embrace this opportunity with open arms, unaware of the fateful encounter that awaited her.
Meanwhile, in his sleek, minimalist office, Tristan Stark was buried in his work when Alex, his assistant, approached cautiously. Alex had a reputation for being unflappable, but today, he seemed unusually nervous.
"Mr. Stark," Alex began, standing at Tristan's desk with a tablet in hand. "I have some updates regarding our campaign for the new Stark Group project."
Tristan looked up, his expression sharp. "Go on."
Alex took a deep breath. "We need a high-profile endorsement, and we've identified Lisa as the ideal supermodel for the campaign. She's agreed to do it, but she has one condition."
Tristan's eyes narrowed. "What condition?"
Alex hesitated, knowing how much Tristan despised being manipulated. "She wants you to be in Paris personally when she signs the contract."
Tristan's expression darkened immediately. "Are you serious? Why are we even considering this? This is ridiculous."
Just as Tristan was about to unleash more of his frustration, the door to his office swung open, and Max Thompson walked in with a casual air. He overheard the conversation and quickly assessed the situation.
"What's going on here?" Max asked, looking between Tristan and Alex.
"Mr. Thompson," Alex replied respectfully, "Ms. Lisa is insisting that Mr. Stark be present in Paris for the contract signing."
Max's eyes lit up with a sudden idea. "Tristan, think about it. Lisa is the best choice for this campaign. She'll draw more clients and boost our brand image. Plus, it's a chance for you to take a break and get a vacation while working."
Tristan scoffed. "I don't need a vacation, Max. And I certainly don't need to be blackmailed into going to Paris."
"Come on, Tristan," Max said, his tone more persuasive. "You're already 26. There's no harm in exploring new opportunities, even in your personal life. If Lisa is so interested in you, why not take the chance to get to know her better? You could even start dating. You deserve a break from work."
Tristan's frown deepened, but he could see the logic in Max's words. He was about to protest further when Max added, "Look, I'll handle your itinerary myself. It'll ease off Alex's work, and you'll be ready to leave tomorrow. Sometimes, life throws beautiful surprises our way, especially when we least expect it."
Alex, feeling relieved, nodded in agreement. "Mr. Thompson is right, sir. This could be a good opportunity."
Tristan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. I'll go to Paris. But only because it's good for the company."
Max grinned triumphantly. "That's the spirit! Trust me, Tristan, this trip might just be what you need."
The next evening, Tristan boarded the flight with a sense of reluctant resignation. He wasn't thrilled about the trip, but he trusted Max's judgment. As he made his way to his seat in business class, he froze, stunned by the sight before him. Summer was already seated in the window seat next to his.
Summer's reaction mirrored his shock, her eyes widening in disbelief. Tristan quickly regained his composure and slid into the seat beside her, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
"Sam, are you following me again?" Tristan asked, his tone dripping with playful mockery.
Summer, still processing the coincidence, felt a surge of annoyance. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Again? Trish, do you have amnesia? Last time it was you who followed me. And now, here you are, sitting next to me. Are you sure you don't have any hidden agenda?"
Tristan chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "Hidden agenda? Me? I'm just here for business, Sam. Maybe it's you who's got something up your sleeve."
Summer huffed, crossing her arms. "Oh please, as if I'd waste my energy on you. I'm here for something far more important."
"Oh really?" Tristan leaned in slightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "And what might that be?"
Summer smirked, her annoyance melting away slightly. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes, something that's a little more personal and enjoyable than my usual work."
"Personal and enjoyable? Sounds intriguing," Tristan said, genuinely curious.
Summer shot him a look, clearly indicating the end of that line of questioning. "Don't get too curious, Trish. As I said, it's none of your business."
Tristan laughed. "Alright, Sam. Please keep your fangs to yourself."