James composed himself. He had been somewhat flustered earlier. At his age, he couldn't maintain Yvette's composure. "Yvette," he said, "I'm truly embarrassed. I apologize."

Yvette nodded slightly, her expression unchanged. "It's fine." She held James in high regard, appreciating his lifelong dedication to his country. He had devoted his entire life to his career—a simple statement, yet a difficult feat.

As the food arrived, they ate quietly. James noticed Yvette enjoyed the shrimp and, without hesitation, ordered another plate for her. Toward the end of the meal, he broached the subject of the new energy launch. "Yvette, aren't you planning to attend? The world's media will be there."

Yvette took a sip of her juice. "Nope," she replied casually. She decisively declined his invitation again, a response he anticipated, given Simon's assessment of her indifference to fame and fortune. She's so young, he thought, yet her placid attitude is admirable.

"Alright," James said, "let's stick to the original plan. Don't refuse the credit."

"Okay," Yvette responded calmly.

Throughout the meal, James was pleasantly surprised by Yvette's sharp intellect. Her responses were consistently insightful, her understanding of physics exceptionally original. He felt he had finally found a kindred spirit.

"Yvette," he said, "have you considered joining the physics lab? With your talent, you'd excel there." It was essentially a backdoor opportunity. Normally, entry required rigorous evaluations, with only the most exceptional candidates succeeding. The lab maintained high standards, conducting quarterly evaluations, eliminating the lowest performer. James had never before offered such an invitation, especially to a young woman in her twenties.

Yvette paused, her gaze meeting his expectant, nervous one. "Thank you for the invitation," she said coolly, "but I have other plans. I don't intend to join the physics lab."

James sighed; her refusal was definitive. At that moment, Michael interjected, "Yvette, let's eat some fish—a big one!"

"Alright," Yvette replied. "You should have some too."

Michael grinned sheepishly, scratching his head. A new idea sparked in James's mind. The physics lab might be a lost cause, but another avenue might exist.

He considered for a moment, then offered Yvette a kind smile, the wrinkles on his face deepening. "Yvette," he asked, "what do you think of me?"

Michael's fork clattered onto the table. Yvette's hand paused mid-air, her bright eyes fixed on James. "What?" she asked.

James realized his phrasing was clumsy. "Yvette," he explained quickly, "I'd like to become your grandfather. If you agree, I'll host a small family gathering to celebrate in a few days. What do you think?"

Fearing another rejection, he rushed on. "Yvette, I've always longed for a granddaughter. It's been a lifelong wish. Can you fulfill this dream for me? I'm an old man, practically one foot in the grave, and this is my only wish." He seemed on the verge of tears.

The scene was unusual: a calm young woman and an old man feigning tears. Seeing Yvette's hesitation, James decided to intensify his efforts. He was determined to bring Yvette into the Owens family, regardless of any potential embarrassment.

Yvette calmly sipped her soup, wiped her mouth, and looked at James, who seemed poised for a bold move. She crossed her legs and spoke slowly. "Did you and Mr. Chavez attend the same school?"

James paused, momentarily confused. "Are you referring to Jase?" He was certain she meant Jase; in Betrico, only one Mr. Chavez was known. He hadn't expected Yvette to know Jase. "You know Jase?" he asked.

Yvette nodded slightly. "I met him yesterday. You two are quite similar."

James became animated. For years, he and Jase had been rivals. Though now an older commander, they had grown up together, knowing each other intimately. "Yvette, don't let that old man, Jase, deceive you. His acting skills are far inferior to mine!"

Yvette set down her water glass and remained silent. Meanwhile, Jase suddenly sneezed during a meeting. His security guard rushed over, concerned he might need a doctor. Jase dismissed it, thinking it odd to yawn on such a hot day.

Back in the private room, James enthusiastically recounted embarrassing childhood stories, mostly about Jase, for a half-hour before pausing for coffee. Yvette listened quietly throughout. Maybe I've been paying too much attention to gossip lately, she thought.

She glanced at her phone. A text message: [I'm coming to pick you up. What's the address?]

She sent the address. "I agree," she said.

James stopped talking, stunned. Happiness arrives so suddenly, he thought. I never imagined I'd live to see this day.

He looked at Yvette expectantly. "Dear, could you call me Grandpa, just once? It's okay if you can't."

Yvette stared at him for a few seconds. "Grandpa," she said.

Michael clapped, grinning foolishly.

Overwhelmed, James pulled a simple box from his pocket—a gift intended for Mary. Is it the emerald hairpin Michael mentioned? Yvette wondered. He had acquired it at an antique auction, valued at thirty million.

He placed the box in Yvette's hands. "Yvette, keep this. I'm unsure if you'll like it. If you do, wear it. If not, set it aside. I don't have much to give you, only this trinket. Perhaps when you visit, you can choose something from my collection."

There were a hundred ways James would spoil Yvette, and this was only the beginning.