Chapter 4
“Thank you so much, Ms. Jeffries,” Natalie said warmly as she shook the woman’s hand. “I’ll get the supplies ordered immediately and let you know when the work can start.”
She returned to her car, packed her materials inside, and drove off. “Coffee,” she murmured to herself, clinging to the promise of caffeine to fuel her through the three remaining client meetings on her schedule.
The rest of her day would be a whirlwind: initial consultations, follow-ups, and sourcing materials.
Initial meetings were always the most demanding, requiring her to be fully “on.” Once designs were approved and contracts signed, she could relax slightly, refining and tailoring them to her clients’ personalities.
In the rare gaps, she’d schedule workers, place orders, and scour warehouses for standout furniture pieces. Evenings were spent at her drawing board, sketching layouts and imagining the little details that made each project feel personal.
But no matter how deliberately she filled her hours, there was one distraction she couldn’t banish. The stranger from the lobby.
Her arms still remembered the firm, steady heat of his hands.
Her mind replayed the glint of gold in his eyes—an impossible color that lingered in her thoughts far too long.
Whenever his image interrupted her concentration, she scolded herself.
She wasn’t dating. She had goals. Big ones.
Partner at her design firm before thirty.
Two years to make it happen. There was no time for tall, magnetic men with voices that could talk her into anything.
Pulling into the coffee shop lot, she sighed, comforted by the thought of a quiet table and her favorite roast. Life was good. She didn’t need a man—especially not one who probably dated women who considered an apple and an espresso “lunch.”
With coffee in hand, she chose a sunny corner table, setting out her laptop and notes. The warmth of the cup seeped into her hands as she took one last moment before diving into the spreadsheet for her next estimate.
She was mid-sip when she heard it—
“Are you stalking me?”
Her hand froze. She looked up sharply, pulse surging, straight into those same dark eyes flecked with gold.
Her breath caught. “No! Absolutely not!”
He chuckled, low and rich, his amusement lighting his gaze. “Since we seem to frequent the same places, would you mind if I joined you?” He lifted his cup toward the empty chair across from her.
“Of course!” she said—too quickly, too brightly. Heat rose in her cheeks as she gathered her scattered notes, stuffing them and her laptop into her tote. “I’m so sorry. I’m not following you. I’d never stalk anyone! That would be… creepy. Scary! I mean—”
She cut herself off when she noticed the way he was smiling at her—warm, teasing, as though her flustered ramble amused him more than anything she could have planned.
“You’re teasing me,” she sighed, her blush deepening as she clung to her cup like it might anchor her.
“Guilty,” he said, his voice smooth, his gaze holding hers long enough to make her toes curl in her shoes.
“Sorry,” she murmured, looking down at the swirl of coffee in her cup. “I’m usually not this slow to catch on.”
“I find it… charming.” His broad shoulders angled toward her, closing the space between them as though the rest of the café didn’t exist. His voice dipped, warm and certain. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Feels like fate, doesn’t it?”
Her lips parted, but no words came. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, every nerve alive to his nearness—the subtle scrape of his fingers along his coffee cup, the weight of his attention like a hand at the small of her back.
She found herself leaning in without realizing it, drawn to the small shifts in his expression, the way his eyes tracked hers as though committing her face to memory.
For a woman who swore she had no time for men, Natalie realized she was measuring her breaths to the rhythm of his voice. And for a man who surely had better things to do, he seemed entirely content to sit there, eyes locked on hers, as if the rest of the day could wait.