Page 25 of The Valentine Agenda

He stared at that photo of her She looked lost in it, small against the city lights. He'd thought that was the point—to show her out of her element. Now all he could see was how wrong he'd been.

Because Hannah Miller wasn't small at all. She filled entire rooms with her presence.

His phone buzzed again. Another comment on his Instagram.

He'd wanted to show Vanessa exactly what she was missing. But standing in his perfect office, staring at his perfect view, James was starting to wonder if maybe he was the one who'd been missing something all along.

The realization felt dangerous. Uncomfortable. Like looking in a mirror and seeing a stranger.

He didn't like it.

He couldn't stop doing it.

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James rehearsed the words in his head as he waited by the mailboxes. A proper apology, carefully crafted. Professional. Appropriate. The envelope in his pocket felt heavy—a check for an even thousand dollars. Generous compensation for any inconvenience.

When Hannah stepped out of the elevator, it was like he was finally seeing her clearly.

"Hannah." He stepped forward, blocking her path. "I'd like to apologize."

She looked at him the way one might look at a particularly uninteresting piece of furniture—noting its existence without actually seeing it. "Okay."

The flatness in her voice threw him off script. "I behaved... inappropriately. At Nero's."

"I agree." No anger. No emotion at all.

He pulled out the envelope. "I want to make it right. The bill, plus... compensation for your time."

Something flickered across her face then—not the gratitude or relief he'd expected, but something closer to disgust. She took the envelope without opening it.

"Is that all?"

James blinked. This wasn't how these conversations usually went. People didn't dismiss James Park. They didn't act like his attention—or lack thereof—was irrelevant.

"I truly am sorry," he tried again, reaching for his usual charm. "What I did was—"

"Mr. Park." Her interruption was polite but firm. "Thank you for the apology. But I have a class full of third-graders waiting to learn about weather patterns, and they're far more deserving of my attention right now."

She stepped around him, heading for the door. He turned, watching her go, feeling strangely off-balance.

"Hannah—"

“Please, don’t.” She paused and looked over her should at him. "I thought there was more to you than what people saw. But there was no hidden depth, was there? This—" she held up the envelope, "—this is exactly who you are. Someone who thinks everything has a price tag."

The elevator doors opened. Mrs. Chen stepped out, looked between them, and smiled like a shark scenting blood.

"Hannah, dear," Mrs. Chen said warmly, pointedly ignoring James. "Are we still on for tea this afternoon? I want to hear more about your art program."

"Of course." Hannah's whole demeanor changed, warming like sun breaking through clouds. "Tommy made the most amazing breakthrough yesterday."

They walked away together, their conversation about children's art and healing fading as they left the lobby. James stood by the mailboxes, still holding his perfectly crafted apology in his throat, realizing he'd somehow made things worse.

Hannah Miller hadn't rejected his apology.

She simply hadn't cared enough to be bothered by it at all.

CHAPTER TWELVE

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