Chapter 3

Anna

Anna didn’t know what she expected him to say.

Some smooth pickup line, maybe. A cocky smile and vague flattery, the usual kind of bar banter she’d long learned to ignore. But when Michael said, “Because something told me if I didn’t, I’d regret it for the rest of my life,” the words hit something inside her—something unguarded and still healing.

She looked down at her glass, stalling. Her fingers tightened slightly around the stem.

Dawn, ever the observant friend, gave Anna’s leg a gentle nudge beneath the bar, then pushed back her stool.

“I’m gonna grab some water from the lounge and give you two a minute,” she said casually, gathering her purse. “Don’t drink too fast without me.”

Anna gave her a traitor glare, but it was half-hearted.

Michael waited until Dawn had disappeared before turning back to Anna. His presence was strong without being aggressive. He wasn’t trying to impress her with jokes or flashy charm. He didn’t need to. His confidence was quieter—settled, almost ancient.

And still, she found herself asking the one question she hadn’t meant to say out loud.

“So… are you always this intense with strangers?”

His lips curved slightly. “Only with ones I can’t stop looking at.”

Anna let out a nervous breath of a laugh. “Wow. That’s dangerously close to being a red flag.”

He tilted his head, amused. “Then I’m glad I walked the line and not crossed it.”

She looked at him fully now—his features sharper up close. His eyes, an impossible shade of blue, held too much. As if they’d seen decades. Maybe even lifetimes.

“Are you in town for business?” she asked, deciding small talk was safer territory.

He nodded. “Yes. A meeting. But it’s been pushed for now.”

“Must not have been that important,” she said.

Michael’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It was important. Just not more important.”

Anna’s brow lifted slightly, and she looked away before he could see the flush coloring her cheeks. She took a slow sip of her drink, then placed the glass down carefully.

This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t casual.

She could feel the shift. The weight of it.

There was something about him that felt like standing on the edge of a decision—one that hadn’t been made yet but would change everything once it was.

“I’m not usually like this,” she murmured.

“Like what?”

“Letting a stranger sit with me. Talk to me.”

He studied her face for a long moment, then said, “Good. That means I’m not just anyone.”

She met his eyes, and in that moment, something pulsed between them. Something unspoken and invisible but undeniably there. It wasn’t chemistry. It wasn’t attraction.

It was gravity.

And it terrified her just a little.

But not enough to move away.

“So, what is it you do?” she asked, more to keep her thoughts from spiraling than anything.

“I run a company,” he said. “Multiple, actually. Private investments. Land management. Technology integration.”

“Impressive,” she said lightly. “And vague. Sounds like something someone says when they don’t want to be googled.”

Michael chuckled, and the sound surprised her. Low, rich, and genuine.

“I prefer privacy,” he admitted. “But if you’re curious, I’ll answer anything you ask.”

Anna paused, holding his gaze.

“Okay. Why me?”

He didn’t even blink.

“I don’t know yet,” he said honestly. “But I’d like the chance to find out.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

She wasn’t ready for this. For him. For how easy it was to feel like she already knew him somehow, or maybe had been waiting for him without realizing it.

But something deep inside whispered, He’s not going anywhere.

And to her own surprise, Anna didn’t want him to.

—————

Anna

It had only been twenty minutes—but it felt like longer.

Michael had a way of making the rest of the world go quiet. Their conversation moved like a slow current—easy, steady, but deep. He didn’t pepper her with questions or fill the silence with nervous chatter. He simply listened. And when he spoke, it was deliberate—each word chosen with care, like everything he said held meaning.

Anna found herself leaning in without realizing it. Smiling more than usual. Forgetting, for the first time in months, the weight of her responsibilities and the unspoken ache she’d grown used to carrying.

She almost didn’t hear Dawn walk up behind her.

“Whew,” Dawn said with exaggerated flair, sliding back onto her barstool, “it’s dangerous out there. I nearly got kidnapped by the pastry cart in the lounge.”

Anna laughed, grateful for the break in tension—though part of her hated the moment had passed.

Michael turned toward Dawn with a respectful nod. “Glad you made it back.”

“Me too,” she said, eyeing the nearly empty glasses. “Looks like you two hit it off.”

Anna gave her a subtle not now look, but Dawn only grinned behind her own drink. “We should probably head out soon if we’re going to beat the afternoon traffic.”

Anna nodded, though part of her hesitated. She glanced back at Michael, who sat calmly, watching her with the same composed interest he’d had since the beginning—but now, she could feel a subtle shift in his energy.

As if he knew the moment was ending—and he wasn’t ready to let it slip away.

Michael stood when they both did, rising with quiet authority. He didn’t push. Didn’t try to persuade her to stay.

Instead, he simply said, “Can I see you again?”

Anna froze, her purse half over her shoulder. Her heart stuttered.

“I’d like that,” she said softly.

Michael reached into his coat, pulling out a sleek black card. No title. No company name. Just his name, Michael, and a direct number.

He extended it toward her.

“Call or text. Anytime.”

She took the card, feeling the strange weight of it in her hand. Not because it was heavy, but because of what it meant.

Dawn gave a low, impressed whistle under her breath. “Damn. Old school and mysterious. I like it.”

Michael offered a faint smile, but his eyes never left Anna. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Dawn. Take care.”

Then, softly, to Anna: “Be safe.”

She nodded, feeling a swirl of something in her chest she couldn’t name.

Dawn looped her arm through Anna’s and steered her gently toward the doors. “Come on before you decide to ditch me and move into the bar with him.”

Anna looked over her shoulder once more.

Michael was still standing there—silent, composed, but watching her like she was already a memory he wasn’t willing to forget.

And as the glass doors of the Ritz closed behind her, Anna knew something had changed.

Not just in her day.

In her life.