Olivia:

It had been a week since that night.

A week since I told myself to forget the man I met at the bar and everything that happened between us.

I quit Devil’s Gear the next morning, packed what little I had, and promised myself that from now on, things would be different.

No more running, no more bad decisions. Just a clean start for me.

When I got the email from Hayes Industries inviting me for a second interview, it felt like the universe was finally cutting me some slack.

I didn’t know then that it was only setting me up for another cruel joke.

At ten a.m. today, I believed my life was going to change.

I would either be able to stay in New York and pay my rent, or I would be forced to leave and face my past.

The outcome of the second round of interviews I was getting ready for would dictate my fate.

I needed that job more than anything in my life. I had debts to pay, and the chicken change I was getting from Devil’s Gear wasn’t going to pay my debts.

I studied my efforts to look professional in the reflection of a shop I could never afford to set foot in.

As I waited to cross the street, the mannequin in the window seemed to mock me.

I sighed out of frustration, hoping no one could see through the façade of the wannabe fancy clothes and colored lipstick I had put on to hide my fear.

Straightening the sleeves of my perfectly white shirt and tucking it in properly, I took another deep breath.

I hoped it would fill me with the courage and determination I needed to survive this day.

I needed it all.

Hayes Industries was one of the biggest names in the world of luxury automobiles, motorcycles, and race cars.

They even had their own branded gear, run by the one and only Richard Hayes.

The man was a legend.

He had forged his way to the top with nothing but hard work and disruptive vehicle designs, setting himself amongst the biggest names in the industry.

Apparently, only his staff and close people knew his son, the heir to the empire.

There was more than the status of the man I was about to meet shaking my confidence, though that kind of self-sabotage ran deeper than just the nerves that preceded a life-changing interview.

There was this constant familiar voice I'd hear.

Diminishing and degrading as always, it was far away now, but it still kept tearing me and my dreams to pieces, whispering my determination into oblivion.

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to remember I could be anything and do anything I wanted to do.

And that I passed the first round.

I just moved back here yesterday, and moving to another city with nothing was not an option.

So saying today was a big deal was an understatement.

This was my new start, far away from ghosts that were still pretty much alive and well.

I held my head high, balancing the best I could on these heels, aiming for graceful but settling for not falling while making my way through the busy streets of New York.

"Oh shit. Nine thirty already," I hissed to myself as I tapped my phone for the hundredth time in ten minutes.

Just as I was about to slip my phone back into my handbag, ice-cold water splashed over my body, soaking straight through my shirt and a part of my skirt.

I froze, blinking at the vintage red car that had just cut through a puddle like it owned the entire road.

"Hey!" I said, stomping my foot.

The driver slowed down for a minute, turning into the curb like he hadn’t just destroyed my morning.

Of course, it was some arrogant man who thought he was above traffic laws.

I had a photographic memory, so I was going to remember his car plate number immediately, and I also caught a glimpse of what he was wearing.

He zoomed off immediately.

This can’t be happening.

I would never have time to go back home to change.

I couldn’t go like this to a possible life-changing interview.

I had to find a café around to do something to my shirt, at least to look presentable.

I was trying as hard as I could not to let my tears fall at the possibility of losing this great opportunity because of some mannerless man.

I got into the nearest coffee shop.

"Good morning, bathroom please?" I asked the barista, who simply pointed to his left, to a pair of black doors.

I saw the exact red car parked outside, and I scanned the room to see if he was there—and yes, he was, standing in front of the counter.

"You!" I yelled. "You owe me an apology, mister," I said.

He turned slowly at the sound of my voice, his deep voice calm but curious. "Excuse me, do I know you from somewhere?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Ethan?" I whispered, my breath catching before I could stop it.

His brows lifted slightly, surprise flashing in his eyes before a slow, familiar smile spread across his face. "Olivia?"

For a second, time stopped. The noise of the café faded, and all I could see was him—the same boy who used to wait for me after school, now standing taller, broader, impossibly older.

"I can’t believe it’s really you," I said, still trying to process it. "After all these years?"

He chuckled softly. "Guess the universe thought we should meet again—though maybe not like this." He gestured to my soaked shirt.

"Oh my God, you ruined my morning, Ethan," I said, half-laughing, half-annoyed. "And I have a very important interview to get to."

He smirked, leaning against the counter. "Still dramatic, I see. I didn’t mean to splash you, Liv. Let me make it up to you."

"I don’t have time for that right now," I said quickly, glancing at my phone. "I’m already late."

"Then let me give you a ride," he offered immediately. "You’ll never make it on foot."

I hesitated. "Oh no, I can’t possibly bother you like this."

Hell yeah, I needed the ride. I was never going to make it on time if I refused his offer.

"Come on, I insist. You can yell at me on the way."

"Fine. But only because I’m desperate."

He smiled, pulling his phone from his pocket and handing it to me. "Then save your number. We’re definitely catching up later, Liv. It’s been way too long."

I took his phone, our fingers brushing slightly as I typed my number in.

"Still beautiful as ever," he said under his breath before I could turn away.

I looked up sharply, but he was already walking toward the door, motioning for me to follow.

I blushed a little before I followed him out.