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Assistant: Title: Violet Warwick doesn’t date
        Author: decoratedofficer771 decoratedofficer771 
        Chapter: 21/21 
        Summary: Violet Warwick has two rules: keep it professional, and don't get distracted.As the lead architect of Warwick & Co., she's built a reputation on precision, control, and shutting down anything that threatens either. Clients come and go, projects rise and fall, and she never lets herself get too invested. Especially not in people.Then Caitlyn Kiramman walks in.Heiress to one of the wealthiest families in the city, Caitlyn is poised, sharp, and impossible to ignore. She hires Warwick & Co. to build her dream house-an escape from the expectations of her family, a place that's truly her own. Vi tells herself it's just another job, just another client.Except Caitlyn is too d@mn observant, too inexplicably fascinating, and far too good at getting under Vi's skin.She shouldn't care. She doesn't date. And she definitely doesn't fall for clients.So why can't she stop thinking about her?
        Contents: Chapter 21: Wine and dine
    

    


      
        
          Hi guys I’m so sorry. I have a lot going on right now. If it feels rushed just let me know I will rewrite it. Hope you guys can understand :)
      
  

  
  
    
    
  Violet Warwick
I’m sitting in my car in front of Caitlyn’s family home. Is this too much? The wide-leg black trousers? The polo shirt? I mean, it’s casual enough, right? I’ve worn suits more formal than this, but still it’s her parents house. Caitlyn’s world. And I’m stepping into it. I take a deep breath. I can do this. I will.Before I can second-guess myself, I grab my keys and wallet from the passenger seat and step out of the car. The evening air is cool, a welcome contrast to the warmth inside the car. I walk up to the door and ring the bell. It’s only a few seconds before Caitlyn opens it, standing there in a simple yet stunning dress that fits her perfectly.She smiles, that beautiful, effortless smile that always makes my heart do a little flip. “Hey,” she says, her voice warm, soothing. Then, she steps forward, cups my face gently, and kisses me. It’s soft, just a quick brush of her lips against mine, but it’s enough to calm my nerves, even if only a little.“Hey, Cupcake,” I say, grinning at her as I slide inside.“Everything okay?” Caitlyn asks, her eyes soft with concern. She takes my jacket from me and hangs it up.“Yeah, just a little nervous. You know meeting the parents and all.” I let out a shaky laugh, but Caitlyn’s presence immediately steadies me.“You’re here, so it’s all good,” she says with a smile. Her voice is so reassuring that I can’t help but believe her. She takes my hand and leads me into the dining room. Her parents haven’t appeared yet, but I can hear soft murmurs of voices from another room.“They should be here any minute,” Caitlyn says, giving me a quick, soft squeeze of reassurance. “What do you want to drink? Wine? Whiskey?”I nod. “Whiskey sounds perfect, thank you.”Caitlyn disappears into the kitchen, leaving me to stand there, fiddling with the hem of my sleeves, trying to distract myself from the reality of the situation. The house is grand, yes, but it feels warm. The scent of fresh flowers and something savoury from the kitchen fills the air, and I can’t help but feel a little bit more at ease. Then, just as I’m trying to settle my nerves, Caitlyn’s parents step into the dining room. Elegant. Graceful. Everything I expected but still intimidating.Her mother is beautiful, her dark hair pinned in an elegant up-do that makes her look like she stepped straight out of a 1940s film. She wears a deep blue dress that’s not overly tight but hugs her figure in the most sophisticated way. Caitlyn’s father is the epitome of gentlemanly charm, in a sharp suit with a vest, matching his wife’s elegance perfectly. Her mother reaches out her hand first, her smile wide and warm as she pulls me into a gentle embrace, kissing both my cheeks in greeting. “Hello, Violet! It’s so lovely to see you again,” she says, her voice smooth and welcoming.“Hello, Mrs. Kiramman,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady, though it feels a little unsteady in my throat.Then Caitlyn’s father steps forward, offering me a firm handshake. “Hello, Violet. It’s a pleasure to have you here,” he says with a smile that feels just a little less intimidating than his wife’s but still carries an air of authority.“Hello, Mr. Kiramman. It’s a pleasure as well,” I say, offering a smile of my own.They guide me to the table, where the conversation flows naturally as we sit down. I’m trying to keep my composure, but I can’t help but feel a bit in awe of them. It’s hard not to be.The dinner is a relaxed, pleasant affair. Caitlyn’s parents are easy to talk to. They ask about my architecture work, and I can’t help but get animated when I speak about it. There’s something about sharing my passion that makes me forget the intimidating elegance of the evening. Caitlyn’s mom asks me about some of the projects I’ve worked on, and I can see the genuine interest in her eyes as I describe the latest designs I’ve been working on. Caitlyn’s dad is equally intrigued and asks thoughtful questions. For a moment, I feel like I’m just talking to any group of people who appreciate good design.“So, Violet,” Mrs. Kiramman says, her voice gentle but full of curiosity, “I’ve heard so much about your work. It’s clear that you have a real passion for architecture. What’s your dream project?”I smile, feeling a little more at ease now. “Honestly? My dream project is to design a building that feels like it truly belongs to its surroundings. Something that reflects the environment and culture around it, but in a way that still feels modern, timeless.” I glance over at Caitlyn for a moment, her soft gaze on me. I can see she’s proud of me, and it makes me feel like I can do this, that I’m not some stranger in her world.“That sounds incredible,” Caitlyn’s dad says, his voice full of approval. “You’re a rare breed. Not many people in your field think that way.”Caitlyn beams at me from across the table, and I feel my heart skip a beat. There’s something about her smile that always has that effect on me.The conversation drifts on from one topic to the next, from travel to Caitlyn’s childhood memories to the latest news in the city. It’s easy, comfortable, and even though I’m still nervous, the Kirammans make me feel like I belong. I can see where Caitlyn gets her warmth from.At one point, Caitlyn excuses herself for a moment. When Caitlyn returns to the table, she reaches for my hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. The rest of the evening flows smoothly from there, with more laughter, more conversation, and a quiet feeling of contentment that fills the air. As the night comes to an end and we begin to say our goodbyes, Caitlyn’s mom pulls me aside with a warm smile. “You’re a wonderful young woman, Violet. I can see why Caitlyn is so fond of you.”Her words make my heart flutter. I give her a smile of my own. “Thank you, Mrs. Kiramman. That means a lot to me.”After we leave, Caitlyn and I stand outside the house for a moment, just taking in the cool night air. Caitlyn looks at me, her eyes sparkling. “See? That wasn’t so bad,” she says with a grin.“No, it wasn’t,” I agree, squeezing her hand. “In fact, it was perfect.”Caitlyn watches me silently for a second, then leans closer.“You’re not driving,” she says gently, no room for argument. “Let’s get a car. I’ll come with you.”“You don’t have to-”“I want to.” She smiles, already reaching for her phone. “Unless you’d rather me send you off alone in a black SUV while I go upstairs and lie awake wondering if you made it home in one piece.”I blink. “Okay. You win.”We say our goodbyes, and Caitlyn’s parents look almost amused as they wish us a good night. I wonder if they can see this thing blooming between us.The car ride is quiet, but not awkward. Her hand finds mine across the seat. She leans her head lightly against my shoulder. It’s calm. Comfortable. Caitlyn laughs as she kicks off her heels at the door, her bare feet brushing against my hardwood floor with a soft slap. I fumble with the keys, the lock clicking behind us. The moment the door closes, it’s just us. The city hum outside falling away like static.“I can’t believe I drank that much wine,” she murmurs, glancing over her shoulder at me. Her voice is warm and low, softened by alcohol and maybe something else. She looks like she belongs here already.I smile and walk past her, brushing her hand lightly with mine. “Let me give you the grand tour.”The space isn’t much. Just a small loft, but I’ve made it mine. Exposed brick, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a few well-loved architectural sketches pinned along the hallway. Caitlyn follows me closely as I walk her through the living room, the kitchenette, the messy office space that’s really just my dining table with too many half-drunk coffees and scattered blueprints.She touches things as she walks. Her fingertips tracing the spines of my books, the edge of a picture frame. I watch her. She makes this space feel alive in a way I hadn’t realised it was missing.“This is cozy,” she says, as we step into the bedroom. Her voice is hushed now.“I bought a bottle of wine,” I admit, suddenly shy. “A while ago. Just in case you ever came over.”Her brows lift and her lips curve. “You planned for this?”“Not planned. Hoped.” I swallow. “It’s in the fridge.”She nods, and I leave the room quickly before I say something more embarrassing. I grab the wine, pour two glasses, and bring them back.She’s seated on the edge of my bed when I return, one leg tucked under the other, looking at home and impossibly beautiful. I hand her the glass, and our fingers brush again,  lingering this time. Her eyes lift to mine, and the mood shifts like a current pulling us under.We sip. It’s quiet.“Vi,” she says, after a moment. Just my name, soft and full of weight.I set my glass down. She mirrors me, and we meet in the middle. The kiss slow, exploratory, a question asked and answered with mouths and breath. Her hand finds my cheek. Mine finds her waist. She’s warm, solid, and the way she sighs into me makes everything else vanish.She pulls back just enough to whisper, “Sorry to say, you’ve grown a bit predictable.”I blink. “What?”Then she grins. My breath catches.Her mouth finds mine again, and this time there’s no teasing. Just heat. Tongue. Teeth. Her thigh slips between mine, and I gasp. She swallows the sound with a groan. I tug her closer. Fingers in her hair. Her lips tracing a line down my jaw. My name whispered like a promise against the skin just below my ear. I want more. I want all of her.Clothes don’t fall away. They’re undone slowly, carefully. My shirt slips over my head. Her hands skim up my sides, calloused palms warm and familiar now. I help her out of her dress. She shivers as I kiss the hollow between her collarbones. When she lays me down, I feel weightless and heavy all at once, like everything is finally in its right place.We don’t rush. It’s not frantic, it’s not performative. It’s soft moans against skin. It’s my name from her lips and hers from mine. It’s mutual exploration, her mouth at my hip, my hand fisting the sheet, the low hum in my throat when her lips find that place just below my ribs.We move together like we’ve done this a thousand times, like our bodies are speaking some secret language.And when it’s over, or maybe just paused. We collapse into each other.Skin against skin. Breath tangled. The scent of her everywhere. I hold her. She tucks her face into the curve of my neck.“Stay,” I whisper, as my fingers trace idle shapes on her bare back.She kisses my shoulder. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”Later, we pull the sheets around us, Caitlyn’s leg tangled with mine, her breath steady. I feel her fingers brush against mine in the dark. I squeeze once. She squeezes back. And just like that, I sleep.'
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