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Scarface approached Josephine with a carefully practiced smile, his voice mild yet charged with tension.
“Forgive me, Ms. Everheart. I bear full responsibility for that slob’s behavior. Clearly, I’ve failed in keeping my people in line. I promise to make it right.”
Josephine raised an eyebrow, leveling him with a cool, assessing look. “My, aren’t you the picture of fairness and justice, Mister Scarface. I’m almost impressed.”
He let out a strained chuckle, something guilty flickering behind his eyes. “Just doing what’s right, ma’am. That manager’s long overdue for a lesson in manners.”
He gestured for her to head back into the office. “If you’d follow me, we can wrap up the paperwork. I’ll see to it that the money’s wired into your account by day’s end.”
Josephine hesitated, glancing at the contract on Kelvin’s battered desk. “I only need a hundred thousand,” she said, a cautious lilt in her voice.
Scarface dismissed her concern with a flick of his wrist.
“Trust me, it’s fine. This bank is part of Mister Carlos‘ holdings. He’s got a soft spot for needy causes–especially orphanages. He’ll happily throw money at any project that helps kids get a better start.”
Even as he spoke, Scarface’s gaze drifted to Alex, hunting for approval.
The subtle nod Alex offered looked less like a friendly okay and more like a silent command. Scarface swallowed, forcing down a rush of nerves.
When Josephine emerged from the office, her signed contract in hand, she found Kelvin and the entire staff lined up as if they were greeting royalty–each one bowing at a precise ninety–degree angle.
She blinked, taken aback. “Alex, I’ve never seen a bank with… such warm hospitality.”
Alex smirked. “Yeah, they’re really pulling out all the stops”
Josephine sighed, checking her watch. “Well, the day’s still young. I’ve got a few hours before my bus home.“, “How about we do a little shopping?” Alex suggested, the corners of his mouth curling up.
“Lunch too, maybe a new phone while we’re at it.”
Josephine huffed a laugh. “Please. I’m not made of money.”
Alex flashed a playful grin. “I’ll pay. I won the lottery last week.”
She shot him a skeptical look. “Really?”
“I’m swimming in spare cash. Do me a favor and help lighten my wallet, would you?” He gave her a winning smile.
Josephine set her hands on her hips. “I’m not comfortable taking handouts.”
Alex heaved a melodramatic sigh. “Fine. I guess I’ll suffer alone, weighed down by all these bills.‘
Rolling her eyes, Josephine shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Come on,” he teased, voice dropping to a gentle plea. “You spend your money on kids, helping everyone else. Let someone return the favor for once. Or are you just too proud to accept a little kindness?”
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A flicker of hesitation crossed her face. “But-”
“Nbuts,“” Alex cut in, mischief sparking in his gaze. “Just humor me for the afternoon.”
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Before she could protest, he was guiding her toward a waiting taxi and whisking her straight into downtown Vancouver.
Their first stop–a high–end boutique with dizzying price tags.
Josephine’s heart nearly stopped the second she glanced at row of dresses.
“Alex,” she hissed under her breath, “are these people out of their minds? That dress is fifteen hundred dollars. And that one’s pushing five grand!” 1
Alex shrugged, looking comically unbothered. “Pretty sure that’s just the real price.”
“Are you out of your damn mind?” Josephine blurted, eyes blazing as she jabbed a finger at the obscene price tag.
“Five thousand–for a dress? Do you know what that kind of money could do? That could feed an entire orphanage for two months! Who the hell throws that much cash on a piece of fabric?”
She turned on her heel, marching out of the store in stony silence, her lips pressed tight.
But then, just as the absurdity of it all hit her, a bitter, mocking laugh slipped past her lips.
She shook her head, eyes dark with something unreadable.
“Must be nice,” she said, voice laced with quiet scorn.
“Must be real nice to live in a world where money’s just something you waste… instead of something you fight to survive on.”
They wandered further down the street until Josephine spotted a more wallet–friendly store–jeans and shirts ranging from ten to fifty bucks.
She practically marched inside and emerged triumphantly moments later, a small bag in hand and a grin on her face.
Seeing Josephine glow with satisfaction, Alex decided to up the ante by taking her to one of Vancouver’s swankiest restaurants.
But a single glimpse at the thousand–dollar entrée prices sent Josephine’s jaw to the floor. She snatched his arm again and dragged him back outside.
“What kind of racket are they running in there?” she burst out, eyes blazing. “Calling it a restaurant is an insult to real thieves.” (1)
Alex just slipped his hands into his pockets, unruffled. “But I told you–I can afford it.”
Her glare could’ve melted steel. “You’re missing the point, Alex.”
His laugh rumbled low. “Alright, so you want something simpler. Name it.“.
Josephine scrutinized him, arms crossed. “You sure you have money? You’re not just blowing smo
?”
“I promise, my bank account’s more than healthy.”
She weighed his answer, then pointed down the block. “Fine. In that case, let’s go get the best food truck barbecue in town. The plates are a little pricey, but nowhere near what we just saw.”
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Minutes later, they were relaxing in a park near the slums, digging into Franklin BBQ’s brisket.
The mouthwatering aroma of spices and smoked meats curled around them in the afternoon sunshine.
Josephine took one bite, closed her eyes, and just about melted.
“This is… oh my God,” she moaned, practically inhaling the rest of the meal.
“I’ve dreamed of trying this for ages. You might’ve just made my entire year, Alex.”
The park bustled with chatter, warm sunlight filtering through the tall trees.
Alex found himself watching her–really watching her.
How her lips curved into a soft smile, how the light in her eyes shone when she was happy, how she never seemed to notice the way passersby stole second glances.
She didn’t demand luxuries or soak in attention; a good meal and decent company were all she needed.
And she was gorgeous. The kind of beauty that turned heads without her even realizing.
They were so lost in their conversation and the easy comfort of the day.
Alex had money–more than he could ever spend. Cars, penthouses, designer suits. He could buy anything.
But this?
This moment with Josephine–the way her laughter spilled into the air, the way her eyes lit up over the smallest joys–this was priceless.
People chased happiness like it was something you could buy, something waiting behind glass windows and neon signs. But happiness wasn’t out there, hidden in luxury.
‘Happiness, not in another place but this place… not for another hour, but this hour.‘
Josephine’s laughter wasn’t just sound. It was light. It was warmth. It made Alex forget the weight he carried, if only for a little while.
“Well, look who’s decided to lurk in the gutter,” a venomous voice cut through the peaceful air.
He turned.
Megan strode toward them, arms crossed, sneering down her nose at the food truck setting. “Figures you’d be eating at some second–rate stall, you little nobody.”
Alex’s entire posture stiffened.
“Megan,” he greeted coldly, “what do you want?”
She plastered on a saccharine smile. “Miss Lancaster’s been asking after you. It’s adorable how quickly you forgot your place just because Miss Sophia divorced you and now Miss Kingston likes to keep you as her–well, let’s call it a ‘pet project.““.
Josephine tensed beside him, but stayed quiet, observing.
Alex frowned, keeping his voice steady. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Megan barked a laugh. “Oh, spare me. The Lancaster Group’s collapsing. You think that just happens by chance? Don’t act like you’re innocent, sweetheart. If you have even a shred of decency left, you’ll fix this mess. Because trust me, if you don’t, something very nasty will be coming your way.”
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She glared at him with raw contempt, lip curling in disgust “I’ve never seen such a pathetic, vile man in my entire life. You’re a disgrace-
Splash!
“1
A cup of ice–cold lemonade smacked Megan straight in the face, soaking her hair and blouse in a sugary cascade.
“Alex, do you need me to knock some sense into this woman?” Josephine asked, her voice syrupy sweet, but her eyes sharp as steel.
A slow, almost playful smile curled on her lips, but the glint behind it was anything but gentle–it was the kind of smile that promised trouble.
Alex smiled.
‘Well, a true friend is someone who thinks you’re a good egg even though he knows you’re slightly cracked.‘
