Chapter One - Out Of My Comfort Zone

The cold beer chilled my throat as I swallowed it down, just like I did with my inner thoughts. The insides of my hands were a bit sweaty, different to the cold drink I was holding. I started to feel angry, mostly at myself. I felt so stupid for being there.

I cleared my throat and glanced at my wristwatch before looking around. She still was a no show. I didn't know whether to take this as a good thing or not. As much as the thought of leaving my hotel made me uncomfortable, I had wanted to be there. I had wanted to see someone that was not on television. But I guessed she didn't feel the same way; hence I was sitting there alone, checking my watch nonstop.

I sighed and wondered if I should leave. Had I been played? I lifted my head and looked around one more time, hoping to catch the waitress, but instead, my eyes met those of a woman standing next to my table. My heart skipped a beat hoping that she was the one I was waiting for.

She quickly shook her head and gave me a small smile. "Sorry for starring, I thought you were someone else."

My heart sank a bit after she said that, this meant she knew someone she was here to meet. I took her in though. She was beautiful, wearing black ripped jeans, a white shirt, and a leather jacket with matching boots. In her right hand, she held a motorcycle helmet. She had come there on a motorbike. The thought of that made my heart skip another beat. God, how I wished she was my blind date. I wouldn’t have complained, even though I had been waiting 45 minutes already.

"If you had told me you're my blind date, I'd have been so happy, rather than thinking I've been stood up."

I watched as she bit the inside of her cheek and arched her brow. "You got stood up? What person in their right mind would do that?"

I shrugged and relaxed in my chair, pointing at the empty space around me. "The woman I'm supposed to meet, who's almost an hour late. This was stupid and I'm even thinking of leaving. I feel so embarrassed now that I know you're not her."

I had no idea why I was rambling too much information. Maybe I wanted her to know that I was waiting for a woman and not a man, that maybe she'd ditch whoever she was meeting and sit with me instead. Which now made me sound so desperate.

I shook my head. "Sorry. I have a habit of embarrassing myself," I said, as she stood there without saying anything. She looked around a bit and then typed on her phone.

At that moment, I wished the earth would open and swallow me. Maybe this was why my blind date didn’t come. Maybe I sounded too needy. I had been there for a month and had no friends. The thought of going on a blind date and possibly getting laid had made me happy for a moment. But that looked like it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Maybe I should have never left my shell. Why did I even think this would happen?

I thought I better leave while I still had some ounce of dignity left. I stood up, about to leave before I made an even bigger idiot of myself in front of this attractive woman.

"Wait, I'm sorry. I'm lost," she said. I furrowed my brows at her, and she laughed, looking at her screen before turning to me. "I'm supposed to meet a few friends at a restaurant. They had two suggestions, and it turns out I’m the only one who came here because I didn’t read the rest of the conversation in the group chat. They all decided on the other one," she said.

I gave her a small smile. "What's the name of the other restaurant? Maybe it's not that far."

"I just looked; it is far."

I laughed. "Oh well... If I could speak French, I’d tell you ‘Welcome to Paris,’ but I’m here for business, so I’m as lost as you are."

She pointed at the empty space in the booth. "Do you mind?"

I shook my head and gestured to the space next to me. "Please, have a seat. Misery loves company, right?"

She laughed, a sound that felt like a warm breeze cutting through the chilly Paris evening. She lifted her hand up and did some hand gestures to the bartender then turned back to me, "I guess it does. Plus, it looks like we're both stranded."

As she sat down, I caught a whiff of her perfume—something floral and crisp that mixed perfectly with the faint scent of leather from her jacket. I smiled a bit, "so, what brings you to Paris, business or pleasure?"

"A bit of both," she replied, her eyes sparkling after placing her helmet on the table. "I'm here for a conference, but I'm hoping to explore the city too. And you?"

I smiled a bit as my mind did it's run around like it usually does. What was this? The universe telling me something? That I maybe didn't sit here for 45 minutes for nothing?

"Business," I said, taking another sip of my beer. "But since it's my first time here, I’m trying to fit in some sightseeing as well. Now I have to minus the pleasure part because it's not working out for me."

"Really? Then you must visit the Eiffel Tower, and not just the top—there's a café halfway up that's worth checking out. And the view from there is incredible," she said, then chuckled a bit before turning and looking right at me. "As for the pleasure part, they say someone's loss is another's win. Or whatever. I really don't know if I'm making sense."

She was making so much sense, and I was starting to be happy that I waited longer for Nora.

"I'll take your word for it. Maybe you can show me around?" I suggested with a playful grin. I was hoping that I didn't come off as too desperate again.

I had only been there a month, and my mother was screaming at me during every call, forcing me to go out with people that I didn't see at the office. The one day I decided to go, I got stood up but also a bit lucky. What were the chances?

She raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Are you asking to see me again?"

"Depends. Are you going to stand me up like my blind date?" I teased.

She laughed again, and it was indeed a wonderful sound. "I promise I won't. I mean, who would honestly not want to see a beautiful woman like you?"

I couldn't help but blush at her statement. It seemed like she was a bit interested too. "Good to know," I said, feeling a bit more relaxed. "So, tell me about this motorcycle of yours. I wouldn't peg you for a biker."

"I get that a lot," she said, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her helmet.

"I like the freedom of it. Also, the city looks different from a bike, more alive."

"That sounds amazing. I’ve always wanted to try riding a motorcycle, but I’ve never gotten around to it. I mean, in South Africa, there aren't many women bikers, just here and there. Or maybe I don't know the right people."

I saw something shift in her eyes. "You're South African? I wouldn't have guessed. I'm South African too, but I have lived in London for 18 years and now I am in the U.S for the past 12 years."

I couldn't believe that she was also from South Africa. What were the chances of that happening? Also, how old was she? I thought she was 30. But this information made me smile even more. "This day just keeps getting crazier."

"It really does, and I'd be insane if I didn't ask what's the most exciting thing you've done in Paris so far?"

"Honestly, I haven’t done much yet. Mostly meetings and work for the past four weeks. I went out some days but only with people from the company. More interestingly, I had an amazing croissant this morning. It’s the little things, right?"

"Definitely," she agreed. "You have to savour the small pleasures. Like an unexpectedly pleasant conversation with a stranger."

I smiled, feeling a warm flush that has nothing to do with the beer. Thank God she was enjoying this conversation. "Well, I’m glad we both ended up in the wrong place at the right time."

"If I may ask, what were you hoping to get from your blind date?"

I didn't know if this was a test. Whether I should truly be honest or withhold some of what I expected from the date I was supposed to be on. But then I decided why am I worried? Why does this woman make me question so many things?

"Good company, good conversation and maybe one of us waking up in the other's place. That's what I hoped for to just unwind from travelling and being single. But then it won't happen."

She smiled and bit the inside of her cheek without even saying anything. I hated and liked when she did that. I hated it because it made me anxious and to wonder what she was thinking. Was she judging me? Did I just tell her I was hoping for a one-night stand? Oh God!

"I mean... I don't mean that I was just looking for sex but..."

"Oh, I got you." She cut me off with a smirk now on her face, "like I said, somebody else's loss is another one's win." then she winked making my face heat up.

Someone finally arrived with two beers. I furrowed my brows since I remember not ordering anything and I've already had 3 too many beers waiting for my no-show date.

"Thank you, will call you when we need you." this woman said and that's when I realized that I don't even know her name. God. How did I reveal things about where I'm from and talk about what I want to someone I didn't even know? Not even a mere name?

She took the beer and scooted closer to me, her knee brushing on mine a bit under the table. She smiled, "are you okay?"

I felt silly for even saying this, "I just realized I don't know your name."

She opened the beer without losing eye contact with me, "is that really more important than just sitting here and talking to a beautiful woman like you?"

Amused I shrugged and took a sip on my beer. She set her beer down and leaned in slightly, her eyes never leaving mine. "So, tell me, what else do you like to do on your free time when you're not getting stood up in Paris?"

I chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease. "I like exploring new cities, trying out local food, meeting new interesting people, and maybe painting. What about you?"

She tilted her head, a playful glint in her eye. "I like cooking. Motorbike rides, spontaneous trips, and meeting beautiful, intriguing strangers in unexpected places and whatever may lead after that. Maybe one in the other's place." Her eyes and demur suddenly changed. Like her drinking beer just gave her courage for something or to be direct.

"Intriguing, huh? So, do I fall into that category?" I asked, my heart beating a little faster. Two can play this game.

She leaned in closer, her knee pressing more firmly against mine. "You might."

Her proximity made me feel giddy, a lightness in my chest that I hadn't felt in a long time. Or maybe I drank too many beers. But there was something about this stranger that was exhilarating, a magnetic pull that made it hard to think clearly.

Maybe it was her hair. It was cut into a tapered pixie fade — short and clean at the sides, blending seamlessly into slightly longer layers on top that added a touch of effortless volume. The edges around her neck and ears were sharp, giving her a crisp, confident look, while the tousled top softened it just enough to make it undeniably sexy. A few strands fell carelessly over her forehead, the kind of imperfection that made her seem both wild and in control. The contrast between the cropped sides and the textured top highlighted her jawline and cheekbones, giving her face a striking, sculpted allure.

When she ran her fingers through her hair, the movement was casual, but it carried a quiet confidence — the kind that made people stop mid-sentence just to watch her. And I watched her, trying to figure her out.

“So," she said, dragging me from m thoughts, her voice softening, "are you here in Paris alone?"

I bit my lower lip before nodding my head a bit, “still can’t believe my company trusted me that much.”

She laughed a bit. She was saying something, her voice low and smooth, but the words barely reached me. I was too caught up in watching her — the way her lips moved, the curve of her mouth when she half-smiled, the sharpness of that short haircut softening every time she tilted her head. There was something magnetic about her, something that made the room feel smaller, warmer. I must’ve been staring too long, completely lost in her, because when she suddenly laughed and asked, “You stay around here?” Her voice snapped me out of my trance.

"Yeah, at a hotel called Glasgow Du Pre, or something, I forgot maybe. You?"

"Not too far," she replied, her gaze flickering to my lips for a split second before meeting my eyes again. "Maybe we could take a walk after this?"

"I'd like that," I said, my voice almost a whisper. The idea of spending more time with her, of possibly taking her back to my hotel, sent a thrill through me. Maybe this night would end up how I had initially planned, just not with the same person.

She reached out and lightly touched my hand, sending a shiver up my arm. "You know, I think your blind date missed out on something."

I laughed softly. "Maybe. But I'm glad she did."

She smiled, and there was something in her eyes that made my breath catch. "Oh, me too. Also, I'm glad that my friends picked a different restaurant."

The air between us grew thick with unspoken tension, an electric current that seemed to draw us closer. I could feel the warmth of her body, the slight pressure of her knee against mine, the soft brush of her fingers on my hand.

Without thinking, I leaned in, my heart pounding in my chest. My mother would be so proud of me right now. She's the one who basically forced me to go on a blind date and meet people. Told me that life would pass me by if I always did everything by the book. Now I was here with this woman I didn't know, my lips going towards hers like it was the only thing they wanted.

She met me halfway, "I'm going to kiss you now." She whispered and before my brain could take in what she said, her lips were so soft and warm against mine. The kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration. Her hand went behind my neck and she pulled me closer to her. That move alone sent me. The kiss started to change, it quickly deepened, fuelled by the chemistry that had been building between us since we laid eyes on each other.

Her tongue brushed against mine before she bit my lower lip eliciting a little moan from me. I felt a bit embarrassed for letting out that sound but I felt her smile on the kiss and that was all I needed to remove any ounce of feeling bad.

When we finally pulled back, I was breathless, my heart racing. Her eyes were dark with desire, and I knew mine must look the same.

"Wow," I said, a bit dazed. "That was..."

"Amazing," she finished for me, her fingers still entwined with mine.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the beer. "Yeah, it was."

She bit her lip, looking both shy and bold at the same time.

"So, how about a walk?"