Chapter 2

He watched me for a few seconds, then suddenly shifted in his seat as though he was about to stand up. Before he could do anything, however, his phone rang.

He answered the call.

From where I sat, I couldn't make out his conversation. I could only hear his low, composed voice and a few brief sentences that sounded firm and authoritative.

He spoke for approximately ten minutes.

Meanwhile, I forced myself to focus on my laptop. I opened several job-search websites, entered the relevant keywords, and began submitting applications.

I didn't have time to admire a handsome stranger, no matter how ridiculously attractive he was.

I needed a job.

And I needed one fast.

My fingers were busy typing when a shadow suddenly fell across my table.

I frowned and looked up.

And nearly dropped my coffee cup.

The handsome man from the window was standing right in front of me.

Good heavens. He was even more attractive up close.

"Miss, would you mind if I talked to you for a moment?" he asked.

I stared at him, my lips slightly parted.

My brain had apparently decided to stop functioning.

He's talking to me? Why? Did I do something? Did he catch me staring at him?

"Y-yes. Of course," I finally replied, sounding far more nervous than I'd intended.

He gave me a faint smile, pulled out the chair opposite me, and sat down without further hesitation.

He moved with such effortless confidence, as though he'd already decided I wouldn't turn him away.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Victor."

He extended his hand.

I quickly accepted it.

"I'm Sevra. It's nice to meet you."

His palm was warm, his grip firm. But what caught my attention most was the way he looked at me.

His gaze was intense, as though he were trying to remember something buried deep in his mind.

"Sevra," he repeated softly, as if savoring the sound of my name.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

He leaned back slightly without breaking eye contact.

"Miss, have we met before?"

I blinked in confusion.

"What? Met before? When?"

A low chuckle escaped his lips. That was when I noticed the dimples appearing on both sides of his face.

Good heavens. Even his dimples are unfair.

I immediately scolded myself.

Focus, Sevra. Focus!

"You helped me find something at JFK Airport last month," he explained.

I frowned, trying to remember.

"JFK Airport?"

"That's right."

He smiled faintly.

"You found my lost passport and handed it in at the information desk. Do you remember now?"

Suddenly, my memory took me back to an incident a month earlier, shortly after I'd moved to New York.

That day, I had been at JFK Airport taking care of my arrival documents when I spotted a passport lying unattended near the document-processing area.

I picked it up and checked the identification page to find out who it belonged to.

Victor Haulette.

The photograph showed a young man with sharp features, dark hair, and an athletic build.

Well, he's handsome. If only he were thirty-five, I might actually go after him, I'd joked to myself at the time.

I shook my head slightly, amused by how ridiculous that thought had been.

I was thirty-five and still single. But that didn't mean I should chase after every handsome man who crossed my path.

When I took the passport to the information desk, I noticed a tall man waiting there. He was wearing a black turtleneck and a face mask.

As I approached him, he turned his head.

For a moment, he seemed completely transfixed by my appearance.

As though he'd just seen something impossible.

She looks exactly like the woman in that painting.

Of course, I hadn't heard his thoughts. All I remembered was the strange way he'd stared at me, leaving me slightly confused.

"Excuse me. Is this your passport?" I asked, holding it out to him.

The man snapped out of his daze.

"Thank you very much, Miss." He accepted the passport. "I'm sorry I'm wearing a mask. I have a bit of a cold."

"Oh, that's all right. You'd better check it first, just in case I've picked up the wrong one."

He immediately opened his passport and examined the identification page.

"Yes, it's mine. Thank you again."

"You're welcome. I'd better get going now. Make sure you don't lose it again," I said with a small smile.

He laughed and gave me a thumbs-up.

"Take care," he replied.

With that, I hurried away because my best friend, Emily, had arrived to pick me up.

Behind me, Victor Haulette watched me leave, his gaze following my every step until I disappeared from sight.

Damn it. Why didn't I ask for her number?

He slipped his passport into his pocket, frustration flickering across his face.

Never mind. I'll ask Braddy to find out who she is.