Loving the anonymous tycoon

always busy but rarely pleasant, packed with truckers and travelers stopping for some hearty, greasy food on their journeys through. At 25, Katie hoped she wouldn't be se

tes along her arm, expertly navigating through the sea of tables. Her feet ached as she attended to customers, off

ed by truckers and families. The man scanned the diner slowly, seemingly taking in his surroundings before his gaze landed directly on Katie. She felt her cheeks involuntarily flush a

lled a cup, sending hot coffee pooling over the counter. She cleaned up the mess and took a deep breath, willing herself not to glance