Chapter 1: Avery and the Stranger

Avery

Avery swore under her breath that it was her alarm this time. She'd woken up a little bit later than the expected time—okay, more than a little bit. Every day, she battled the little invention on her nightstand for failing to wake her.

"Taxi! Taxi!" She tried the umpteenth time to hail a cab, but they zoomed past her like she was a ghost.

She had a job interview slated for 8:00 a.m. at King's Fashion House. It was bad enough that she overslept, but she might break down in tears on the paved sidewalk in front of her dilapidated apartment, waiting for a cab without end.

With her old black purse slung across her shoulder, she clutched a big brown folder to her stomach, craning her neck for the next taxi to pass by. A liter of ill-tempered commuters lined the same sidewalk where she stood, making her chance of hailing a taxi very slim.

Time was ticking, and in the ever-buzzing Empire City, it ticked fast. Glancing over her wristwatch intermittently, Avery knew she could kiss the hope of finding a job goodbye.

Her mother and only family had been in a vegetative state for four months at Second Life Hospital. Dr. Tancredi had diagnosed her with chronic heart disease, coupled with a hole in the heart.

She'd been downcast when the older woman broke the sad news to her in her office. She couldn't let her mother die after losing her father in a road accident when she was eight. It had been the worst day of her life.

Dr. Tancredi was the family doctor. Although she'd been kind to Avery and her mother in many regards, understanding the fact that they were poor, she'd pointedly told her that without a down payment of two million US dollars, the hospital would not begin the surgery. They'd only help manage her condition for as long as she fought for life.

"My hands are tied," Avery remembered Dr. Tancredi telling her. "You've got to find the money one way or another if you must save your mother."

It was as if it rained money on a spring day in Empire City. Albeit, she had to look high and low for the money, beginning with the job interview she was almost late for—the seventh in a month after graduating from college with honors!

Damnit!

Avery's hope rose when she saw another cab coming in the distance, hauling a pile of smoke along. The crowd around her had dissipated, which meant she had much less contention to do.

She waved her hands wildly to flag it. A few meters away from her, a tall, handsome blonde in a royal blue three-piece suit seemed to be as desperate as she was. They both saw the taxi and waved at it.

The taxi came to a smoking halt between them. "Yo, come on in!" The driver called in a gleeful tone.

After exchanging nervous glances, Avery and the man made a beeline for the passenger doors. Rounding the taxi to the left, Avery bolted in. The man got in right about the same time.

The first thing her brain registered about the stranger was his rich cologne, which saturated the damp taxi. His carriage emitted power and authority. He possessed a sharp jawline and towering height that intimidated her.

She wondered why a big city boy like him decided to hustle a taxi when he could afford a car.

"Look here, lady. I'm having a bad day already, and trust me, you don't want me displacing my temper on you. So, I'll ask you politely," he said sharply. "Get off my ride."

Avery was stunned. He had the guts to send her out of a cab; she stopped all by herself. Who does he think he is, anyway? So much for politeness.

"I beg your pardon!" Avery was prepared to cut him down to his size. "I waved him down first. If anyone should get off this ride, it's you."

Against her will, Avery found herself gravitating toward the stranger, charmed by his taut facial features and his mature baritone that jiggled her brain.

He scoffed. "Do you know who I am?"

Avery never gave a damn about who he was. She had only thirty minutes left for her interview, her only hope of saving her mother. He could be the president's son, she'd still shoo him off the taxi.

"I don't care about who you are, and I want it to remain that way." Despite herself, Avery couldn't help but feel the butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach. She might be doing a good job acting tough on the outside, but she was a mess on the inside. How can a man make her feel this...this fragile? "All I want is for you to get off the taxi and wait your turn."

"I'm not stepping out of a taxi because of a rag." His acidity cut through Avery's shield. Her wardrobe was made up of recycled blouses and worn-out skirts. Her jeans were faded to snow white, begging for abandonment. Worst of all, she couldn't afford a perfume. "Your presence alone will stain my tailored material. Out this minute, before I do something crazy!"

Avery summoned the last vestibule of courage in her. "Not in seven hells. You either get off my taxi or you eat your own shit!"

His eyes widened in morbid irritation. Avery knew she had scored a point. Way to go, girl, he doesn't know what he's in for. She might be poor, probably worth way less than his tanned brown brogues, but she depends on her self-esteem. Her mother had always taught her to chin up and never show her back.

"You-"

"Yo, guys. Keep it down. You're gonna ruin my fucking day with your bickering!" The brown-skinned taxi driver mediated. His English was subpar, proof that he lacked adequate education. They almost forgot there was a third personality in the vehicle with them. "Let's reason like adults for once. We are no longer children. Where are you both headed?"

"King's Fashion House." Avery and the stranger chorused in perfect unison. Out of sheer realization that they were heading in the same direction, they darted furious gazes at each other.

The driver grinned triumphantly and reeved into the asphalt to join the traffic. "See! The two of you are going the same way. Save your energy for your bosses. It's Monday in Empire City, shit gets crazy by the minute." He laughed at his own joke, while Avery and the stranger seethed with fury.

"What business do you have with KFH?" The stranger asked, rather out of disgust. "It's not for a low-class bitch like you!"

"It's none of your business, punk!" she replied curtly. "And don't you ever call me a bitch, because you don't know me?"

"Who cares?" He shrugged. "I don't give a damn."

"Then shut the fuck up and get off my ride!"

He growled under his breath, fuming. "I'll do better to hang myself by my tie next time than share a ride with a low-class uncouth dunce from downtown Empire City!"

"Did you just call me a low-class, uncouth dunce?"

"Do you need hearing aids, or do I need to repeat myself word for word to sink it into your poor empty brain?"

All right, there's a limit to her patience. This stranger has stepped right on the tigress' tail, and he's in for retribution.

She snapped at the taxi driver, who'd given up hope of reconciling the hot-headed adults. "How long more do I need to tolerate a proud ogre, because I swear to God, I will not be responsible for plucking his eyes out?" She gritted the words between clenched teeth.

"Ten more minutes!" The taxi driver assured.

"Me?! A proud ogre?!" He angled toward her. Avery fisted her hands, ready to haul punches—if it got to that. "How dare you?! Who the hell do you think you are, bitch?!"

"Your worst nightmare, ugly ogre. And if you're yet to have one, hallelujah!" She leaned closer. "I'm going to haunt your night and scratch your face with my fingernails!"

To Avery's surprise, the handsome stranger laughed off her threat. "Nice try. You deserve an Oscar nomination for trying to scare the shit out of me. But let me give you a fair warning." His tone became grave. "Do not cross paths with me next time, because if you do, I'll be the end of you. There won't be a second time."

"We're here."

The taxi jerked to a stop in front of the twenty-story glass building. The abrupt stop pushed Avery sideways as she fell head-on into the well-packed chest of the stranger.

For a while, Avery was lost in the rainbows of his scent, reveling in the dangerous comfort of his body. Her nose sank into his smooth chest, while her hands groped his massive shoulders.

Warm pools of desire settled in the pit of her stomach. For a virgin at twenty-three with a boyfriend she was yet to have sex with, the lustful images she was conjuring in her mind about this man broke all the laws of celibacy.

The stranger's cold words snapped Avery back to reality. "Get your fucking body off me."