Marcus glanced cautiously at Sydney. "We'll probably need to make frequent trips to Sterling Corp. when the time comes." Sterling Corp. had two office towers housing labs and research institutes. The chances of running into Julian were slim, but not zero. Sydney smiled helplessly. "Why do you sound just like Alan?" She set down her utensils and said earnestly, "Marc, don't worry. I know where to draw the line. Personal issues won't interfere with work."
Upstairs on the restaurant's second floor, the door to a private room stood ajar. A tall man leaned casually on the railing outside, his long fingers draped over the edge. His sharp black eyes were fixed on the pair below. The aloof and proper woman who always kept him at arm's length now sat obediently. She was smiling sweetly as she spoke to another man and made promises Julian could not hear. "Julian, what are you staring at? Are you coming in or not?" A man his age stepped out of the room and followed his gaze. Grinning like a fool, he joked, "Oh, I see. Watching your little sister, huh?" "Screw off," Julian shot him a cold look, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and walked downstairs without another word. "You handle the rest of the meeting. I'm heading out." "Got it. I'll just tell them you had urgent business," the man said, clearly used to this.
Julian had just managed to ease Marcus' concerns when he approached with a dark expression. She stiffened, not expecting to run into him here. Instinctively, she turned her head to pretend she didn't notice. Unfortunately, it was too late. Julian had already stood beside the table. Marcus smiled and stood. "Mr. Sterling. What a coincidence. You're here for dinner as well?" Julian gave a polite nod. "Right." Marcus paused, then offered courteously, "Did you come to meet someone? You're welcome to join us if you're free." "Sure," Julian cut him off cleanly and turned to Sydney. She drew a slow breath and treated Julian like a high-paying client, giving him space. Sydney, mind scooting in?" Yet, here they were, seated together, and even seated, Julian's tall frame radiated pressure. The faint scent of agarwood lingered in the air.
Marcus, surprised but composed, waved a waiter over with a smile. "Mr. Sterling, would you like to order something?" Julian glanced at the dishes - mushrooms, barbecue ribs, stuffed eggplants, tuna tartare - and set the menu aside. "No need. These are some of my favorites, too." The word "too" lingered in Sydney's ears, subtle but meaningful. Her palate, shaped over nearly nine years, had ended up remarkably similar to Julian's. The rest of the dinner felt like torture. She barely finished her orange juice before Marcus laughed. "This was a bit impromptu. Next time, I'll properly treat you, Mr. Sterling." "This was fine," Julian said indifferently, that usual air of detached authority never slipping. Sydney no longer cared. That line clearly meant the meal was over. She stood as Marcus did. "Marc, I'll drive you home." "Mr. Shepard, my driver's just out front. Let him take you," Julian cut in. Then he turned to Sydney, smirked, and said, "I've got something to discuss with my little sister." 'Little sister... Has he lost his mind?' Sydney wondered. The second Marcus was around, it was "little sister" every other sentence.