The best thing to do would be to walk away, act like a normal human being, and move on with my life. But there’s nothing I want more than to prove him wrong, especially with the taunting quirk of his brow.
“If I recall correctly”—I cough for dramatic effect—“the dictionary definition of decency goes something along the lines of ‘conforming to an accepted standard of morality and respectability,’ Something you’ve clearly failed to do by not apologizing.”
“Did I not do the moral thing by saving you from a near freak accident?”
I take a second to ponder the question.
Yes,but “Not when it could have been avoided if you’d been respectful to begin with,” I say instead.
The stranger throws his head back in a laugh, exposing his Adam’s apple. Long fingers scratch at the stubble trailing down his neck, and shame fills me when I’m once again admiring his good looks.
“Do you do this with every man you meet?” he asks.
Alas, still no apology.
“Do you save every woman who’s about to jump in front of incoming traffic?” I raise a brow, thinking I hit the spot but hating the way it makes him sound chivalrous.
“Only the ones who stand out.” The man winks—a move that only fuels my white-hot hatred.
My hands clench on their own accord, ready to follow through on the threats swirling through my mind when he speaks up.
“Anyway, I’d love to continue our chat, but I have a meeting to attend.” With a single nod, he starts making his way to the far end of the sidewalk.
I follow him on instinct, not ready to let this go, but freeze when I see him reach for the passenger-side handle of a car. In the front, a gray-haired chauffeur sits, looking awfully happy to see him.
Talk about a trust fund baby.
I’ve had a taste of this man’s personality, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that the look the driver gives him has everything to do with the paychecks he signs off.
“You’re as bitter as your coffee,” I yell, the words leaving my mouth before I can think them through.
His undeniably muscular body freezes halfway through settling himself into the back seat. Then he turns, his gaze taking me in once more before he says, “Nice try, sweetheart, but I take mine with milk and sugar.”
With a final and distinctive click, the door shuts. Deeply tinted windows barely reveal the wide smile on his face as thecar drives off, leaving me stranded and seething on the side of the road.
Before I know it, I’m on a call with Sutton, consumed by anger and, apparently, willing enough to shake up my status quo. Since just like that, I’m her plus-one at that engineering event later tonight.
CHAPTER 2
NATE
“You’d better have a damn good reason for being late to your meeting with Everett Staines,” Melanie hisses as I slip past the backstage curtains of our setup for the night.
I wince at the sound of my younger cousin’s voice, disappointed that my entry wasn’t as incognito as I’d thought.
“I swear to God, if you’d just let me explain, I can justify my—”
“Since when do you wear navy-blue suits?” Melanie interrupts, gaze skimming over my outfit like she’s some fashion connoisseur. “And red-soledloafers?” She slaps a hand over her mouth, trying her hardest to contain her laughter. “You look like the biggest douche on the planet.”
I blink twice before looking down at myself.
Is it really that bad?
Typically, I’d join in on the laughter and poke fun at myself in good spirits. Maybe even share the ridiculous run-in I had with that cute girl on my way here—but I don’t have it in me anymore.
Fromallmy black suits being in the wash to not finding my go-to dress shoes or good luck cuff links—so far, nothing is going according to plan. And I’m blaming it all on the pressure of needing everything to go perfectly tonight.
For the past six months, the team at Archer Aviation and I have worked day in and day out to finalize our showcase—one that the media is claiming to be“the most anticipated aerospace engineering event of the year.”
