The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 98

Chapter 98

Cynthia’s POV

I got into the restaurant just in time, and I scanned the building looking for Bryan.

He was seated at the extreme end, and when he spotted me, he waved to identify himself.

I took a deep breath and approached him with a smile. He was smiling back, and as I got closer, he stood up and pulled out a

chair for me.

It was awkward, but… well, he was just being a gentleman.

“Thank you,” I said, settling into the seat.

He went back to his own chair, and now we were staring at each other face to face, with no form of distraction, just silence

between us.

For the first time, without Ethan’s presence or the chaos of grocery stores and anime shops, I realized how handsome Bryan actually was. Sharp jawline, intelligent eyes, the kind of confident posture that came from years of success. I hadn’t noticed it in all the years I’d known him because I’d thought he was a jerk and a bully. And he had been, to be fair.

But sitting here now, seeing him in a different context, I could acknowledge that objectively, Bryan was an attractive man.

“So,” I cleared my throat, pushing those thoughts aside. “Thank you for meeting with me. Please tell me your email so I could forward you my restaurant’s specifications discussed with the IT consultant.”

“Sure.” He gestured at my phone. “May I? It’s not exactly straightforward to spell out.”

I frowned slightly. “It’s not a straightforward email? I would need to type it myself then.”

He smiled. “I promise I’m not going to do anything nefarious with your phone. Just easier if I type it directly.”

I hesitated for a second, then unlocked my phone and passed it to him, watching carefully as he typed.

His fingers moved quickly across the screen, and in another second, he handed it back to me. I glanced down and saw he’d entered his email into a new message:

I attached the specifications document that Pierre had sent me and hit send.

Bryan picked up his phone almost immediately, checking what I’d just sent. His eyes scanned the screen, and I watched his expression shift into something more professional, the businessman evaluating a potential project.

“Alright,” he said, setting his phone down. “So you need an Al model for data analytics. Something to help analyze diner preferences, improve personalized service, manage reservations more efficiently. Current system can’t handle the volume

increase.”

“Exactly.” Heaned forward slightly. “We’ve tripled our customer base and our infrastructure wasn’t built for that kind of traffic We’re losing potential bookings, and the manual work is overwhelming my statt.”

He nodded, asking more technical questions about our current system, our database structure, the kind of data we were collecting, what specific outcomes we wanted.

I responded swiftly, grateful that I’d done my homework and could speak Intelligently about what we needed. Pierre had prepared me well during my uber ride here.

Bryan seemed impressed, his eyebrows raising slightly at some of my answers. “You really know your stult”

“It’s my restaurant,” I said simply. “I need to understand every aspect of it.”

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“How urgent is this?” he asked, pulling out a tablet and making notes.

“As soon as possible. Every day we wait, we’re losing revenue and disappointing customers. And after everything we’ve been through, we can’t afford that.”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled, not the polite business smile from before, but something warmer, almost… fond.

“What?” I asked, suddenly curious as he watched me with gentle eyes. “Is it impossible to get it done quickly?”

“No, not impossible at all.” He set his tablet aside. “But can we eat first? I skipped lunch trying to finish up work just so I could meet with you.”

I glared at him for a second, ready to protest that this was a business meeting, not a social dinner.

But then my stomach betrayed me with a quiet growl, and I realized I was actually hungry too. I’d been so focused on spending time with Amber, then getting here on time, that I hadn’t eaten anything substantial.

Before I could say anything, Bryan had already called the waiter over.

We ordered I chose a simple pasta dish, he ordered a steak — and then we fell into silence as we waited for the food.

The silence wasn’t entirely comfortable, but it wasn’t hostile either. Just… strange. Sitting across from Bryan Ferdinand, Ethan’s best friend, the man who’d dismissed me for years, now treating me with respect and courtesy.

The food arrived quickly, and we ate without speaking at first. But I noticed how often Bryan looked at me. Not in a creepy way, but with a kind of curious intensity that made me slightly uncomfortable.

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