My lip twitched. “I wasn’t planning on it. But if that’s your thing…”

She sighed. “Look, I’m sorry for what I did. I already wrote the bride an apology letter and sent a little gift to the return address on the invitation. I didn’t mean any harm. When the invitation came, I accidentally opened it, and a few glasses of wine later, my friend Fisher and I concocted the idea that we should crash. I was pissed at my roommate—the person the invitation was actually sent to. She’d moved out in the middle of the night on me, and a bunch of my clothes and shoes went missing when she did. And just that day, the check she’d left me for the two months of back rent she owed had bounced. And to top it all off, it had been my last day at my job, so I really needed her half of the rent.” She paused a moment, seeming to catch her breath. “I know none of that excuses what I did. A wedding is supposed to be a sacred and intimate event for families and friends to share, but I want you to know it’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like that.” She shook her head. “Plus, I might not have gone through with it if it were anywhere else, but I love that library. I worked a block away for the last six years and had lunch on the steps more times than I could count. I’ve been dying to go to an event there.”

I scratched my chin and examined her face. She seemed sincere. “What took you so long to come collect your phone?”

“Truth?”

“No, I prefer you make up a story like you did at the wedding. Because that ended so well…”

She rolled her eyes and let out a big sigh. “I wasn’t planning on coming at all. I even went out and bought a new iPhone. But my rent is due in a few days, and I’m broke because I’ve sunk every penny I have into my business launch, which has now been delayed. I have fourteen days to return the overpriced phone—and the last one is today. I can’t afford a thousand dollars for a new cell, especially now that I don’t have a roommate. I need to return the phone, or call my father and ask him to borrow money. Faced with the choice of coming here and taking my lumps for doing something stupid, or calling my father… Well, here I am.”

My sister hadn’t really even been upset over what had happened at her wedding. Of course she’d been confused about who the woman telling a story about their childhood was, but when I’d explained that I’d caught her pretending to be a guest, Olivia had laid into me for putting the woman on the spot, rather than quietly escorting her to the door. To be honest, even I’d felt a little bad once Stella started to sweat and turn pale with the microphone in her hand. But I’d been pissed that she lied to me. Deep down, I knew it was partly because a woman lying to my face brought back some shitty reminders. It also didn’t help that my little sister had chosen to get married at the same place my own wedding had been just seven years before. So perhaps my anger at Stella could have been slightly misplaced.

Opening my desk drawer, I took out the cell phone and slid it over to the other side of my desk.

“Thank you,” Stella said. She picked it up and swiped at the screen. The phone illuminated, and I watched her forehead wrinkle. “It’s still fully charged. Did you charge it?”

I nodded. “It was dead when the caterer sent it over the day after the wedding.”

She nodded, but I could see I hadn’t answered whatever question was on her mind.

“Did you…try to guess my code?”

I managed to keep my face straight, even though that was exactly what I’d done. She didn’t need to know I’d spent an hour trying different combinations to unlock the damn thing because I was so curious about the woman who’d run out of the wedding. So I sidestepped her question and tented my fingers, speaking in a stern tone. “I needed to turn it on to see if you even had a code, didn’t I?”

Stella shook her head and slipped the phone into her purse. “Oh. Yeah. Of course. That’s right.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds, until the silence became awkward.

“Okay, well…” She stood. “I should be going.”

As fucked up as it was, I wasn’t ready for her to leave. I had a hundred questions I wanted her to answer—like what her father had done that made her not want to call him, or why her business launch had been delayed. But instead, I followed her lead and stood.

She extended her hand across my desk. “Thank you for safekeeping my phone, and again, I apologize for what I did.”

I took her little hand in mine and held it for a tad too long. But if she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

After I let go, Stella turned to leave, but then turned back. She unzipped her purse and rummaged through it. Pulling something out, she offered it to me.

“Do you like chocolate?”

I was confused as hell, but nodded. “I do.”

“I keep a Hershey bar in my bag at all times for emergencies. It has anandamide, which is a neurotransmitter and helps you feel happier.” She shrugged. “Sometimes I give them out to people who look like they need it, but most of the time I wind up eating it myself. I love chocolate. I sent your sister an apology gift, but I didn’t send you anything. It’s all I have for a peace offering.”

This woman was handing me a candy bar to call it even for crashing a seven-hundred-dollar-a-plate event? I had to give it to her; she was unique.

I held up my hands. “It’s fine. We’re good. You keep it.”

She kept her arm extended. “It’ll make me feel better if you have it.”

I managed to keep in my chuckle as I took it from her hand. “Okay. Thank you.”

Stella lifted her purse back onto her shoulder and headed to the door. I followed to open it, but she again stopped abruptly. This time, instead of a chocolate-bar offering, she leaned in to me and inhaled deeply.

“Retrouvailles,” she said.

I spoke a little French and knew that translated to reunion or something along those lines.

Seeing the confusion on my face, she smiled. “It’s the cologne you’re wearing, isn’t it? It’s called Retrouvailles.”

“Oh… Yes, I think it is.”

“You have good taste. Expensive taste. But good. I created it.”

“Really?”

She nodded, and her smile broadened. “You wear it well. Colognes smell different on everyone.”

Damn, she had some smile. Taking it in, my eyes fell to her lips.

Fuck. I had the urge to bite them.

“Do you spray the cologne on your pulse point?” She pointed to the hollow at the bottom of her throat. “Around here?”

I practically salivated, staring at her delicate neck. “I guess so.”

“That’s why it lasts so long. Perfumes and colognes reactivate from body heat. A lot of men spray on the sides of their neck, but the bottom of your throat is one of the warmest areas because the blood pumps near the surface of the skin. It’s why most women also spray on their wrists and behind their ears.”

“Are you wearing any?” I asked.

Her brows furrowed. “Perfume?”

I nodded.

“Yes, it’s one I developed also.”

I kept my eyes trained on hers as I slowly leaned forward. She didn’t budge as I came to within an inch of our noses touching, then dipped my head to the side, placed my nose near her ear, and inhaled deeply.

She smelled fucking incredible.

Reluctantly, I pulled my head back. “You wear your creations well, too.”

She smiled once again, but the slight glaze of her eyes told me she felt a bit off-kilter, too. “Thank you, and thanks again for everything, Hudson.”

She turned once more to walk out of my office, and as she stepped over the threshold, a bizarre sense of panic washed over me.

“Stella, wait…”

She again halted and looked back.

Before I could stop myself, the craziest shit tumbled out of my mouth. “Have dinner with me.”

CHAPTER 4

Stella

“Have you heard from Prince Charming yet?” Fisher opened my refrigerator and took out a container of yesterday’s dinner, even though it was only 7AM.

I shook my head and tried to hide my disappointment. “It’s probably for the best.”

“What’s it been, like, a week now?”

“Eight days. Not that I’m counting.” I’m totally counting.

He looked me up and down. “Why are you dressed so early?”

“I just got back from watching the sunrise.”

“You know, you can set the background of your laptop to some pretty nice sunrises and sunsets and sleep in.” Fisher popped off the Tupperware lid and forked a full breaded chicken cutlet as if it were a lollipop. He bit off a piece.

“That’s not quite the same, but thanks. Umm…do you want me to heat that up for you? Give you a plate and knife to cut it up? Or better yet, make you some eggs for breakfast?”

“No need.” He shrugged and took another bite. “Why don’t you call him?”

I looked at my best friend blankly. “I can’t call him.”

“Why not?”

“Because he probably changed his mind. Are you forgetting how we met? I’m shocked he even asked for my phone number. I’m thinking he had a temporary lapse in sanity and thought better of it after I left. Besides, I have a date tomorrow, anyway.”

“With who?”