The back seat of Mr. Grey's gray Karlmann King was spacious, the leather seats plush and cool against Reese's skin, yet she and Christian still managed to rub elbows. Silence loomed in the air between them, thick and palpable, like the suspended moment before a glass shatters on the ground—an eerie quiet demanding to be broken. Reese glanced out the tinted window, watching as the familiar streets of downtown Los Angeles passed by, the buildings blurring into a wash of lights and colors.

"So, where are we going?" Reese finally asked, breaking the silence as they passed several high-end restaurants she recognized.

"Oh, just this little restaurant in the Hills," Christian replied, his tone casual, not bothering to look up from his phone. "You'll like it."

"You don't know what I like," she mumbled under her breath, feeling a twinge of annoyance at his presumptive tone.

"What was that?" Christian asked, his voice cutting through the silence as he slipped his phone into the pocket of his suit jacket. He turned his head to face her, his gaze penetrating and unwavering.

"I said, how was the rest of your day?" Reese replied, forcing a coy smile as she met his gaze. "You seemed a little distracted when I tried asking you about the house earlier."

Christian's expression remained inscrutable. "What did you ask me?"

"About the furniture," she continued, leaning back slightly. "Are you willing to sell it with the house?"

His eyes darkened, and his voice lowered. "That's possible."

"Okay," she said, nodding. "Well, that makes it easier. I could call the staging co—"

"Ms. Sutherlin," he interrupted, his tone suddenly firm, "I didn't ask you to dinner to discuss business."

Reese blinked, momentarily thrown off balance. "Oh," she said, sitting back against the seat, her brows knitting in confusion. "Then why did you ask me to dinner?"

Christian's lips curled into a small, enigmatic smile. "You don't know me, Ms. Sutherlin."

"Okay," she said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"If we're going to work together," he said, his voice low and deliberate, "then we should get to know one another, don't you think?"

"Agreed," Reese replied, trying to keep her tone light. "But we still need to handle business."

Christian's smile vanished, replaced by a look of mild irritation. "Fine. Let's discuss business," he said roughly. "You want to sell my furniture with the house? I'm sure I can negotiate that with the lawyers, but consider it done. Does that wrap up the business you so desperately need to handle?" His smirk was both taunting and amused.

Reese felt a flush of irritation rise to her cheeks. "Okay," she said, her tone sharp. "You want to get to know each other? Fine. Why are you getting a divorce?"

Christian's eyes flickered, the amusement draining from his face. "Unrealistic expectations," he answered curtly, his voice edged with a bitterness that surprised her. "Why are you single?"

"Who says I'm single?" she shot back, raising her chin defiantly.

"Your body language," he replied smoothly, his eyes glinting with a mix of challenge and curiosity.

Reese narrowed her eyes. "Well, maybe you need a translator because you're mistaken," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

A slow, devilish grin spread across his face. "Well, if you're in a relationship," he said, leaning closer, "he's definitely not satisfying you."

"That's not really up for discussion," Reese replied, her voice tight.

"Fine," Christian said roughly, his gaze unwavering. "Would you rather discuss something else?"

"Anything," she said, turning to look out the car window, trying to maintain her composure. "As long as it's appropriate."

"I'm curious to know what you deem as appropriate, Ms. Sutherlin," he chuckled, the sound deep and rich.

"Anything other than my sex life," she said, cutting him off. "I'm sure you can manage a topic somewhere in between selling your house and that."

"Fine," he said, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Where did you grow up?"

Reese turned back to him, her expression serious. "You know what, Mr. Grey, I'm not sure what any of this has to do with our business relationship," she said. "Most of my clients just want to know what makes me qualified to sell their home...to see if they can trust me to get the job done."

Christian's grin widened. "I think you'll find that I'm not your typical client."

"No, you're not," she mumbled under her breath, her frustration simmering.

"With all due respect, Ms. Sutherlin," Christian continued, his tone softening as he scooted closer to her, "I'm just trying to get to know you and for you to know me. You can Google anything about me online, but that doesn't tell you who I am."

Reese could feel his breath, warm and close, dancing on her lips. He was inches from her face, his mesmerizing eyes boring into hers. His brooding demeanor was captivating, dangerously so, but she didn't want to compromise her career—or herself.

"Mr. Grey, I—"

"You can call me Christian," he interjected with a half-smile, watching her flustered reaction with keen interest.

"Christian," she repeated softly, almost breathlessly. "I would never judge you based on anything I found online. I'm just here to do my job."

"Nevertheless," he said gently, "I want to show you who I am. Can I do that?"

Reese hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. "I'm not opposed to it," she finally replied. "It would make my job easier."

"Exactly," he said, sitting back with a satisfied smile. "Glad we're on the same page now."

"Right," Reese murmured, shaking her head as if coming out of a trance. She glanced out the window, noticing the car slowing down. "Are you hungry?"

"Huh?" Reese asked, momentarily confused, her thoughts still scattered.

"We're here," Christian said, nodding towards the window.

Reese looked out, seeing the sleek, modern lines of an exclusive restaurant nestled in the Hills. "Oh, right," she chuckled nervously. "Food...I could eat."

"Me too," he said, his gaze lingering on her as the driver opened the door for them. "I'm absolutely ravenous."

They stepped out of the car into the crisp evening air. The restaurant's understated elegance matched Christian's taste—discreet but undeniably luxurious. A valet hurried forward to take the keys, and Christian guided Reese toward the entrance with a light touch on the small of her back. His hand lingered for a moment longer than necessary, sending a shiver down her spine.

Inside, they were greeted by a maître d' who ushered them to a secluded table near a large window with a breathtaking view of the city lights twinkling below. Christian pulled out her chair for her, a gentlemanly gesture that seemed almost out of place considering his earlier demeanor. Reese sat down, smoothing her skirt and trying to compose herself.

As Christian took his seat across from her, the waiter appeared, handing them menus bound in fine leather. Christian barely glanced at his before setting it aside. "I'll have the usual," he told the waiter, his tone firm but polite.

Reese scanned the menu, feeling his eyes on her the entire time. She ordered something light, not trusting her stomach to handle anything more substantial in his presence. Once the waiter left, Christian leaned back, his fingers steepled under his chin as he studied her.

"So," he said slowly, his voice low, "tell me, Ms. Sutherlin, what do you really think of me?"

Reese looked up, meeting his intense gaze. "I think you're a man who knows what he wants," she replied carefully, "and doesn't like to waste time."

Christian's lips twitched into a smile. "And what do you want, Ms. Sutherlin?"

Reese hesitated, feeling the weight of his question. "I want to do my job," she finally said, her voice steady, "and I want to do it well."

"And beyond that?" he pressed, his eyes darkening.

Reese took a deep breath, feeling a strange mix of attraction and apprehension. "I want to be successful," she admitted, "but not at the cost of my integrity."

Christian nodded slowly, as if weighing her words. "A noble ambition," he said softly. "And one I respect."

Reese wasn't sure if she believed him, but there was something in his tone, a sincerity that was hard to fake. She held his gaze, the tension between them thickening with each passing second. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a charged current.

Finally, Christian broke the silence, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Do you think you'll enjoy working with me, Ms. Sutherlin?"

Reese swallowed hard, feeling her heart race. "I think," she said slowly, "it will be...interesting."

Christian's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "Interesting," he repeated, savoring the word. "I can work with that."