CHAPTER TWO-A NAME WORTH CHASING

The next morning at Hartman Enterprises Headquarters,Sam’s office looked exactly like him,sleek leather chairs, a desk that could double as a conference table, and a floor-to-ceiling window with the city skyline laid out like a promise. He didn’t use it much.

“Coffee?” asked his assistant, Chris, striding in without knocking. Christina Hartman his younger sister was as direct as she was stylish. She dropped a paper cup in front of him. “Also, Mom’s been calling. Something about you leaving the gala early. Again.”

Sam smirked, leaning back in his chair. “She’ll get over it. I was doing important field work.”

Chris arched a brow. “Field work? In a black sports car at ten p.m.?”

He took a sip. “Met someone.”

Chris’s curiosity lit up instantly. “Oh? Do tell.”

“She almost became roadkill.”

Chris choked on her coffee. “That’s your opener?”

Sam ignored her sarcasm. “She’s… different. Didn’t care who I was, didn’t even want to give me her name. Most people trip over themselves to talk to me. She ” he paused, almost smiling to himself, “wasn’t impressed.”

Chris grinned knowingly. “So now you have to find her.”

“Exactly.”

Meanwhile,Rose was busy sorting donated books into neat piles in the Westwood community center when her phone buzzed. Her friend Melissa “Mel” Grant’s name flashed on the screen.

“I saw you last night,” Mel’s voice came through with a teasing lilt. “With Mr. Tall, Dark, and Trouble. Who was he?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Some guy who thinks traffic laws are optional. Almost hit me.”

Mel gasped. “And? Was he cute?”

“That’s not the point.” Rose tried to sound firm but couldn’t hide the tiny smile tugging at her lips. “Besides, I’ll probably never see him again.”

Later that day,Sam’s Hunt Begins

Sam wasn’t the type to let things go especially not a mystery like Rose Westwood. He started with the obvious: the community center. By mid-afternoon, his car was parked across the street, his sunglasses on, looking like he belonged in a movie stakeout.

Through the open doors, he saw her hair pulled back, laughing with a group of kids. The sight hit him harder than he expected. She looked… real,Unfiltered.

When she finally noticed him, her expression went from surprise to suspicion in a blink. She stepped outside, crossing her arms.

“Are you following me?” she asked.

Sam grinned. “Depends. Do restraining orders work better before or after coffee?”

She shook her head, but he could see the corner of her mouth twitch. “Why are you here?”

“To apologize properly,” he said, holding out a takeaway cup from the café down the street. “And maybe learn your name, unless you want me to keep calling you ‘Roadkill Girl.’”

Rose sighed. “It’s Rose. Rose Westwood. And I don’t drink coffee with strangers.”

“Then let’s fix that part,” he said smoothly.

Back home, Rose mentioned the encounter to her mother, Diana Harper. She didn’t expect the sharp reaction.

“What’s his name?” Diana asked immediately.

“Sam,” Rose said slowly. “Samuel Hartman.”

Diana’s expression hardened. “Stay away from him.”

Rose frowned. “Why?”

“Because men like him,” Diana said, her voice firm, “don’t walk into your life without a reason. And the Hartmans… they always take more than they give.”

Rose opened her mouth to argue, but Diana had already turned away, ending the conversation.

That night, Rose lay awake, replaying the brief encounters in her mind. Sam’s grin, the way he seemed both arrogant and strangely sincere,it was infuriating.

Across the city, Sam sat in his penthouse, staring at his phone, debating whether to text her.

He didn’t. But he knew one thing for certain he wasn’t done.