Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 136

IT was a Wednesday afternoon when the message came in, and Amelia very nearly didn't see it.

She was between calls, standing at the window of her office with her phone in her hand, scrolling through emails she was only half reading, when a text notification dropped down from an unsaved number.

*Hi. This is going to sound random. It's Ifeanyi— bartender from the place some months ago. You probably don't remember me. We exchanged numbers, you gave me your card, and said if I ever made it to your city I should reach out. Well, I made it. I'm at the airport actually. I just landed.*

Amelia stared at the screen and thought for a while before a big smile broke out on her face. Then she burst out laughing. It was a genuine, surprised, and completely unguarded laugh that made Ryan look up sharply from across the room.

"What?" he asked with a raised brow. He liked whatever made his boss have this refreshed expression on her face, but he was still curious.

"Nothing," she said, still smiling as she typed back.

*I remember you. Waiter at the resort during my relax trip. You made that trip fun and everything. You even talked about furthering your education in my state. Of course, I remember you.*

The reply came quickly.

*You stayed to listen to my yappings and never got tired, that means you agreed to most of the things I said.*

*It means I was being polite.*

*Same thing. So— is the offer still open? Your city, your contact, your words.*

Amelia smiled at the screen. She remembered him clearly now. A bar on one of the nights of a solo trip she had taken after closing a difficult resort contract. She had sat at the counter intending to have one drink and decompress, and ended up in the most unexpectedly engaging conversation she had had in years. He was young— maybe twenty-six— working a bartending shift to fund the tail end of his degree, passionate about everything he talked about, funny without trying to be, and completely without an agenda. She had given him her card at the end of the night half on impulse. He had told her he was hoping to get into a postgraduate program in her city, and she had said, laughing, *If you ever end up in my city, I have a guest room waiting for you.*

She had genuinely never expected him to call, and she herself had forgotten to call him.

She typed: *Are you actually here for school or are you just here to look around?*

*My admission finally came through a few weeks ago. Master's program in urban planning. It starts in three weeks, and I have been trying to sort accommodation for the past month but it's been a disaster. I'm not complaining, just context.*

Amelia looked out the window for a moment. Then she typed: *How long would you need? I told you I will always have a guest room ready for you.*

*Honestly? Maybe two months while I find something proper. But I completely understand if—*

*Come to the office first. I will send you the address. We will talk properly before I hand you a key.*

The three dots came up for a while, but Amelia waited and received no response. His next message made her chuckle again. He was surprised.

*You are serious.*

*I don't say things I don't mean. Come to the office.*

She sent the address and put her phone down. Ryan was watching her with the expression of someone trying very hard not to ask questions.

"It's a friend," she said without looking at him, already knowing what he was thinking.

"I didn't say anything."

"Your face said several things."

Ifeanyi arrived at Satin and Sage an hour later. He was tall, easy in his movements, with the kind of face that looked like it defaulted to calm. He shook Amelia's hand, looked around the boutique with the quiet, assessing attention of someone trained to read spaces, and said, "This layout is excellent. The sightlines from the entrance draw the eye exactly where you want it."

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