Chapter One
SABRINA
Afoolish person doesn't always recognize when she's crossed paths with someone she is destined to meet...
I slide myself back into my seat at the dinner table and begin nervously playing around with my order of shrimp scampi, which was left for me while I was in the restroom. I'm fidgeting around, because I'm a little uncomfortable in such a romantic setting like this with my coworker Jason. The man who I've been pining over pathetically for years, yet there's nothing even remotely romantic going on between us.
He looks up briefly to acknowledge my return, but then mouths the word "sorry" and continues a very spirited conversation on his cell phone. One that he's been having, for I swear, the last fifteen minutes, and frankly I'm bored out of my mind.
While everything about this restaurant screams date night: the lighting is low, the tables are meticulously decorated with fine, modern details, and there are affectionate couples all around me. This has ended up being more of a working dinner (for him) rather than anything resembling a date. When am I ever going to learn to stop fantasizing that one day the two of us will fall in love and become the company's power couple? We work, and he definitely flirts, but nothing romantic happens past that. Like him asking me out on an actual date.
To pass the time I return a few emails on my phone, and soon become distracted when I notice a sudden shift in the energy of the restaurant. An energy which rises high above the low frequency buzz of casual dining in the room.
The faces of the waitstaff become more animated.
Their eyes enlarged.
Their whispers growing to the level of dense chatter.
I look around and notice what or rather who the cause is. A man has entered the restaurant, and he walks into the place with distinct purpose.
To be seen.
I try to look away and mind my own business, but like others around me, I can't help myself as I continue to track the man's movements.
I'm inexplicably drawn to him.
With confident strides he follows the hostess with complete bravado towards the bar in a pair of well-fitting jeans, a black tee, and a pair of aviator shades on. His outfit perfectly complimenting his muscular frame.
There are two other behemoths flanking both sides of him as if he's someone important. Someone in need of security. Although I'm not totally sure why he'd need them, because the man looks like he could probably knock them both out or anyone else who got in his path for that matter.
Being in the business that I am, and living in New York City, my first inclination is to assume that he's some sort of celebrity, but then I second-guess that theory. With my experience, I think I would recognize him if he was one, even though he's hiding himself behind his sunglasses.
The colossal stranger stops just short of a couple of feet from our table and speaks with the two men who are with him. All three of them start laughing, but the rumble of his laugh specifically echoes through my chest.
I quickly turn and stare back into my scampi. His proximity makes me feel uneasy. So uneasy that my heart begins rapidly beating inside of my chest, like a skittish small animal that recognizes when a predator is nearby.
I continue searching my bowl of scampi for shrimp, as if I'm digging for gold, but can still see the man's legs out of my peripheral vision. Denim clad, muscular, powerful legs.
I'm not sure how I know, but I can sense him watching me. Maybe because he's stood completely still for the last few seconds. Almost as if he's watching and waiting for me to look up at him. I know I shouldn't, but I go ahead and raise my eyes anyway. Just for a moment.
I don't know exactly what's going on behind those shades of his, but a slow almost disquieting grin spreads across his face, when he catches me looking. Then he starts walking.
He walks behind me with heavy, considerable strides and as he passes by, I swear that I can feel one of his fingers briefly skimming the back of my neck, close to my hair. The brazen nature of his act startles me, and my spine is on fire. It's as if he's branded me with just one slight touch.
My fork drops from my hand with a clank on the table in surprise as my heart continues to thump powerfully. I gingerly place my hand on my chest to calm myself. For a split second, I wonder if I'm having a panic attack until I realize how ridiculous that is. How ridiculous this whole thing is. I don't even know this man.
I look across the table at Jason wondering if he notices what's going on. Thinking that maybe I've screwed up the possibility of this whole evening by taking such obvious notice of another man. I mean the whole point of me being here is to hopefully have Jason see me as more than just the "girl at work," but as usual, he's still in the middle of a heated discussion on his phone, completely unaware of anything going on around us. So that's why I decide that it might be okay if I turn my head for a moment to catch a glimpse of the intoxicating stranger one more time, and I'm amazed at the sight of him when I do.
He's magnificent. Even from the back.
And everyone in here knows it.
Including him.
Women who are sitting with each other or are with their significant others are all gawking at him. Repositioning themselves. Poking out their chests and sucking in their stomachs. Men who evidently seem to recognize his face are giving him respectful head nods. Even the hostess seems to have an extra hitch in her step knowing that this majestic beast is watching her walk from behind.
Who the heck is this guy?
