Chapter 87: Without barrier

Tom stood up and paced the length of his room, his hands clenched into fists.

Josie... The woman whose joke he hadn’t laughed at, was the one person who could walk through the front barrier of the building without a badge, without a visitor pass, without needing to justify herself to anybody at the desk.

And he had let her go without taking a number.

Tom stopped by the window and dragged a hand down his face. Of all the careless gaps in the morning, that one now felt the most expensive. He had been too exposed, too angry, too focused on getting off the roadside to think properly. Now the one person who could solve the entrance problem was a name on a search page and a face in his memory.

"What do I do now?" He mumbled under his breath as he thought. He was still turning over possible routes when his phone rang.

Stella.

Tom’s brows furrowed as he saw the caller’s ID. He breathed out through his mouth, as if that would sort out his thoughts before he answered the call.

"Hello." he said gently.

There was a soft rustle on her end first, fabric against fabric, the faint clink of something glass being set down. When her voice came, it was unhurried and openly amused.

"Well, that was quite a display by the roadside." she said.

Tom closed his eyes for half a second. "You saw it."

"I think the whole city saw it." Another faint movement on her side, as if she had leaned back into a chair. "A man in a slutty underwear, by the roadside... Of course, that was something. Very bold of you."

"That wasn’t boldness."

"No?" Her chuckle was low then she continued; "It looked like advertising from where I sat. Should I be concerned that other women are receiving the same product preview?"

Tom let out a short breath that almost became a laugh despite himself. "wait, are you enjoying this?"

"Of course I am." She did not even pretend otherwise. He could hear the smile in her voice, lazy and sharp at the same time. "You spend so much time trying to control the room. Then the internet hands me pictures of you half-naked in public. Forgive me for appreciating the contrast."

Tom smiled then sighed, not knowing what to reply with. He turned away from the window and sat on the edge of the bed.

"How are you?" he asked.

Stella ignored the question completely. A soft scrape sounded on her end.

"You looked good in them," she said then paused for a heartbeat before continuing;

"That’s the irritating part. Even in those ridiculous photos, you didn’t look ordinary. You looked like someone who had been caught in the middle of a story."

Tom could see what she was doing. However, he was too curious and worried to play along.

He rubbed his thumb along the side of the phone as he hit the nail on the bull’s head; "What’s going to happen with Adrian?"

The line changed.

Not dramatically. Just enough for the playfulness to thin. He heard her shift again, the quiet of a woman deciding how much truth she felt like releasing.

"That isn’t your business. Don’t stress over it." she said firmly.

The words were smooth and still carried the weight of the night she had ordered Adrian out of her house. Before Tom could press, she recovered the conversation with a smooth ease.

"I’m signing one ambassadorial deal tomorrow," she said. "After that, I would love to go for a two days vacation. Somewhere quiet where there won’t be any press, no useful fiancés..." A pause. "Come with me."

Tom did not answer immediately. The invitation was delivered like a natural continuation of her evening plans, but there was nothing small about it.

Stella laughed under her breath, reading the silence with insulting accuracy. "Don’t tell me you’re stuck wondering what your contractual wife would think. You don’t look like that kind of man. Or did I overestimate you?"

"Stella-" Tom started but she cut him short.

"I’ll expect your answer later," she said, already done with the portion of the conversation she had wanted. "Try not to end up at another road before then."

The call ended.

Tom lowered the phone and stared at the darkened screen as if he could feel the taste of her voice still in the room. Sharp, playful, controlled where it mattered and raw where she chose to be. He exhaled once.

"What was that?" he muttered But no answer came.

~~~~~~~~~

The following morning arrived too quickly...

The System’s chime pulled Tom out of sleep at eight, with its announcement;

```

[MAIN MISSION — PART 1]

Dress in proper corporate attire.

Arrive at Goldy Realty Group by exactly 10:00 AM.

[REWARD]

Gold Chest

[PENALTY]

$100,000 debt

-15 Authority

```

The mission had returned exactly as promised.

Tom yawned and got up at once. He went to the bathroom, showered quickly, and dressed in one of the remaining expensive suits from the previous day’s shopping. The fabric sat perfectly on him again, giving him a hard, presentable surface to walk back into the city with.

The night before, after discovering Josie’s position, he had gone through old articles and lifestyle mentions until he found one useful detail. She was known for arriving early. One write-up placed her at the building around nine. If that habit still held, he might intercept her before the security desk became the only available door.

He headed downstairs.

Sienna was in the living room with breakfast in front of her.

"Good morning, Mr. Harlow." she said, her tone coming out deliberately too formal.

Her eyes moved over the suit a second later, surprise flickering across her face. "You’re not staying for breakfast?"

"No."

"What about our pending discussion?" ℯ

"Not now." he replied sharply.

Sienna watched him with open confusion as he crossed the room and left the house.

Outside, Tom got into the Mercedes and drove.

He reached Goldy Realty Group at 8:49 and parked where he could see the main approach. From the car, the glass building looked the same as the day before, built for people who already belonged inside it. He waited with his eyes on the entrance line, searching for Josie’s car, Josie’s figure, any sign of the woman whose authority could take him through the front barrier without a fight.

Nine o’clock passed.

Nine-fifteen.

By 9:30, the first edge of worry had entered his hands. He flexed them once against the wheel and kept watching. Staff continued to enter with badges. Visitors continued to stop at the desk but there was no sign of Josie.

At 9:50, his jaw had locked tight enough to ache. Ten o’clock was too close. The penalty from the previous failure still sat in his account like a bruise. Another one would land harder.

Then he saw someone he had not expected to see there at all.

"Oh..."