A/N: Wrote and edited some of this and the next on a plane trip this morning, so if you see glaring mistakes - let me know!
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***[POV: Semi-Panicked Suitor]***
The penthouse apartment felt too quiet, even with the city humming fifty-nine floors below. I'd been pacing between the kitchen dining area I rarely use and the living room I never have time to relax in for the past half hour.
Checking my phone every thirty seconds for updates like some lovesick teenager. Or if I'm being nice, a mid-level manager who is very worried about the success of a project proposal.
My own meal sat cooling on the dining table - the same beef stew I'd had my chef prepare this afternoon, thinking to send it tomorrow and claim it was leftovers. But I got the opportunity to send it today because she… never sent another message.
