The Billionaire Unexpected Evening

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resso machine are usually soothing. But today, my thoughts deviate from regular

s attention in a lowly barista? That first shared chuckle, as coffee poured from his suit, kindled something shockingly simple bet

rk? Or has he already left his professional image for the day, unwinding with a nightcap in a posh high-rise apartment? Either picture

morning, looking at me with an expression I had never received from a suitor before. Despite my best effort

stioning my choice to accept his offer. Nonetheless, the recollection of his smile—that magneti

with an incoming text, m

hadn't known I was holding. I've gone years without receiving a second look from guys like him

ith new acquaintances. Even as I create the quiet reassurances, my int

lose the café door behind me, I see my reflection in the glass. Chestnut hair is escaping my ponytail, and I have

bout work or school. Seeing me outside the coffee shop's bustle would undoubtedly under

ice have also been artificial? The Griffin I met today seem

tomorrow's meal will reveal about the enigmatic, intriguing stranger who has unexpectedly invaded my life. But when I appro

in ways I'd never felt before. Perhaps we live in completely different worlds today, but underneath

ooking for clues to the true guy beneath the magnate front. As I finally fall asleep, glimpses

clash spectacularly before resuming our separate orbits, or tw

nexpected spark may go. Fire, once kindled, cannot be easily extinguished, and I am certain Griffin