Chapter 643

The man who had bumped into her was young, about her age, and wore a
baseball cap.
He glanced up at a middle-aged woman standing a short distance away, who gave him a subtle nod.
Receiving the signal, the young man bowed his head apologetically. “I’m truly sorry, miss.” He bent down to pick up the shopping bag she had dropped and handed it to her.
As Ann took the bag, the man’s eyes widened in feigned surprise. “You… you’re Miss Templeton?”
Ann frowned, confused. “Do I know you?”
“Allow me to introduce myself,” he said, extending a hand. “My name is Asher Fletcher. I’m in the jewelry business, a colleague of your cousin, Mr. Gonzales. We met at a reception last year. I don’t suppose you remember?”
Ann shook her head. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ
Asher didn’t seem fazed. “Of course, a busy person like yourself wouldn’t remember me. What a coincidence to run into you here. Since fate has brought us together, would you do me the honor of joining me for lunch?”
Ann studied him for a moment, a faint glimmer in her eyes. In the past, she would have dismissed such an invitation from a nobody like him. But things were different now. She had nothing, and she needed to seize every opportunity and connection that came her way.
A small smile played on her lips. “Since you’re being so sincere, Mr. Fletcher, it would be rude of me to refuse.”
“Miss Templeton, please,” he said with a slight bow, gesturing for her to lead the way. He fell into step beside her. “I know a lovely rooftop garden restaurant on the sixth floor. Would that be to your liking?”
“That would be fine.” For a fleeting moment, Ann felt a touch of the old life she’d had at the Gonzales estate, a time when she was still a pampered heiress.
As they disappeared into the crowd, the middle-aged woman from before turned to the man beside her. “Mr. Banks, are you sure Ann will betray Tammie for us? I hear their sibling bond is unusually strong.”
Torin Banks smiled knowingly. “Ann has nothing now. It’s easy to get used to luxury, but nearly impossible to give it up. Don’t worry. She won’t pass on this chance to get her life back. Eighty million dollars was a sum she could never hope to earn on her own.
“But their bond isn’t fake,” the woman persisted.
Torin’s eyes glinted with cynicism. “In the face of real money, sentiment is meaningless.”
***
Ann and Asher were seated in the open-air festaurant, surrounded by blooming roses and peonies whose fragrance mingled with the aroma of food. Asher, the perfect gentleman, pulled out Ann’s chair for her.
He scanned the menu. “Miss Templeton, you order. I’m not a picky eater.”
Ann waved away the menu. “The chef’s special of the day will be fine.” She then turned to Asher. “And a bottle of Romanée-Conti.”
“Excellent choice,” he said, raising his glass when the wine arrived. “To our good fortune in meeting today, Miss Templeton.”
They clinked glasses. The first
course was a black truffle and mushroom soup. As the rich
familiar taste hit her tongue, Ann felt a wave of nostalgia. She never thought she’d be dining in a place like this again on her own merit.