—Eloise—

The moment our eyes met, everything else in the room disappeared.

All I could notice was the man standing near the window in a tailored charcoal suit, one hand buried in his pocket.

Caleb Holt.

He was watching me like he was trying to read my mind.

I held his gaze as I took the seat beside my father.

“You're late,” he said.

I glanced at the clock.

“By two minutes.”

His lips curved. “Still late.”

He looked far too pleased to see me. I almost laughed. ...