Scarlett P.O.V

Hearing my assistant's raised voice through my office door, I lower the file I'm perusing onto my desk. For a second, I listen to see what the commotion is about, but I can't discern anything. Except it's over the phone.

I get up from my desk and go out into the waiting room. The gray leather armchairs spread about the spacious room are empty, and there's no one milling about confirming my previous assumption. I step up to Penelope's desk, and my presence goes unnoticed as her fingers rapidly move across her keyboard, inputting the information from the files on her desktop.

"Why can't you?!" She shouts into the cell phone, sandwiched between her ear and shoulder blade. "What do you have to do that's more important than looking after your child? Huh?"

There is a beat of silence as she listens to the other person's response before she says, "Your friends?! Are you telling me your friends are more important than your daugh-"

She pulls the phone from her ear. "Hello? Hello?!"

There must be no answer because she slams the phone face down on her desk, buries her face in her palms, and screams internally.

"Penelope, is everything alright?" I ask, taking one tentative step toward her.

She slowly lifts her head, smoothing her sleek blonde bob as she looks at me. "No, it's not. Jamie's deadbeat father just called to tell me he can't pick her up from school."

"Isn't this the second time this week?" I asked even though I already knew the answer. Joe, her boyfriend of seven years, was usually more reliable and diligent with his parental duties. But over the last month or so, things have changed.

He would suddenly drop everything with barely any notice a few times a week. And when he bothered to explain, they were often vague. Or at least that's what Penelope told me. I hadn't pried for more information because, to be frank, it was none of my business. But, whatever the truth is, I hope it doesn't destroy the relationship between them and their daughter.

"Yes!" With her red-painted lips twisted in a scowl, she snatches the silver picture frame containing a photo of her daughter and boyfriend off her desk and glares at it. "Plus, he says he also can't babysit her tonight. And there's no way I'll be able to find a replacement at this late notice in time for the party. So I guess I won't be able to go."

"Don't worry about the party. Just focus on Jamie. Besides, Oscar will understand."

She nods. "But I wa-" The office phone rings, interrupting her.

She returns the photo frame to its original position and exhales deeply before answering it. "Dr. Winter's office. This is Penelope speaking. How may I help you?"

There's a short pause before she says, "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. And I'll take care of that right away for you."

I wave my hands until she looks up at me.

"Who is that?" I mouth.

She places her hand over the receiver. "Mr. Fisher. He got into a little fender bender on his way over and needs to reschedule."

I nod. "Is he injured?"

She shakes her head, no, and I let out a relieved breath.

I had yet to meet the man. He was a new patient. But hopefully, his accident was just a stroke of bad luck instead of nerves.

I tune back into the conversation when Penelope confirms his new appointment date before ending the call.

"Well, since he was the last patient I was supposed to see today, you can head home early."

"Really? But I still need to c-"

I hold up my hand. "It can wait until tomorrow. Now go."

She quickly gathers her stuff, shuts down the computer, and rushes out the door. "Thank you!" She shouts from the hallway.

Chuckling, I go to my office and grab my purse and cell phone before shutting everything down and locking up. I'm entering the elevator when my phone rings.

"Hello?" I answer without checking the caller's i.d.

"I can't believe he stood you up!" My friend Ebony's voice comes through the line.

"I take it you heard about my disastrous date."

The sarcasm in my voice goes unnoticed by her as she says, "Yes, but forget about him. You matched with so many better men, and I'm sure they're dying for you to set up a date."

"No, I'm done."

"What do you mean you're done?!"

I shift my phone to my other ear as I mash the button for the parking garage. "I mean... I'm never using that app again or any others. I've already deleted my profile."

"Hold on, Scarlett. You can't let this one time di-"

"This is the third time this month."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Things have been so busy at the restaurant I forgot."

"Well, I sure as hell haven't! And I don't think I ever will. The man tried to feed me shrimp from his trunk on some ratty blanket in the park. And the other guy..." I drop my voice to a whisper and cup my hand tighter around the phone even though I am alone in the elevator. "Let's just say he was really into horses. And I don't mean for sport."

"Oh, God." A gagging noise comes through the line. "But even still, you shouldn't let it discourage you. You need to get back out there. And don't stop until you find your special one."

My special one.

Why did those three words conjure an image of the one person it shouldn't?

My best friend Maddox.

He's taken.

And the chances of getting together were nonexistent.

I couldn't pinpoint an exact moment I had fallen for him. My feelings had just gradually changed throughout our friendship. And for the sake of said friendship, I had buried those feelings. Or at least I'd tried to. Dating was supposed to help, but no one had yet to replace him in my heart. And honestly, I doubted someone ever would.

But instead of telling her any of this, I say, "Look, Ebony, just because you've found your soulmate on there. That doesn't mean I will."

Honestly, she meant well. She really did. But she needed to understand that she and Chance were among the chosen few fortunate enough to find their true love on a dating site and then go on to marry. Not everyone is as lucky. Myself included. Especially when having a successful date was already hard enough.

"And I'm not saying I'll never date again. I'm just saying when I meet someone, I want it to be more natural...or old-fashioned." I exit the elevator, wave at the guards on duty before leaving the building, and heading to my car.

"Okay, fine. Let me hook you up with one of Chance's friends."

"No, thank you. You know how I feel about dating friends of friends."

If, by chance, the relationship turned sour, I didn't want to deal with the fallout. You know, the awkward meetups at social gatherings that eventually forced everyone to pick a side.

"Okay, what about one of his cop buddies then?"

"Mmm... Maybe. But isn't that kind of the same thing?"

"Of-"

"Oh no, no, no." My footsteps gradually slow to a stop as I openly gawk at the front left tire of my white Mercedes-Benz.

"What's wrong?"

"I have a flat."

"Do you want me to come get you?"

"No, I have a spare in the trunk. And can change it right quick." I unlock my car and set my purse in the passenger seat.

"Are you sure? Cause I can spare a few minutes before the dinner rush. And I know you have somewhere to be."

Leaning against my car with my hand on my head, I slowly massage my throbbing temples. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay, call me if you need me."

"Alright, bye."

"Bye."

I hang up my phone, toss it next to my purse, and shut the door before checking my other tires. Once I saw they were fine, I went to my trunk. While lifting out the tire, a deep voice says, "Excuse me, do you need some help?"

"No, I go..." My voice trails off when I look around the trunk lid.

A pair of soul-stirring dark brown irises meet my own and suck the oxygen from my lungs. The tire slips from my fingers, landing with a thud inside the trunk while taking him in. He looks like he just walked off a magazine cover and is easily one of the hottest men I've met recently.

He's tall, much taller than me, with a light olive complexion and broad shoulders that perfectly fill out his navy suit. His jet-black hair is close-cropped on the side, with the rest slicked back off his face. The style greatly compliments his strong jawline and high cheekbones.

"I mean... yes." I straighten and tug down my pencil skirt. "That is if it's not too much trouble."

My grandpa, Dave, was a mechanic for forty-plus years before passing away five years ago. Most of my summers were spent by his side in his garage, learning his craft. So I definitely knew how to change a tire. But if someone as hot as he is offering, I certainly won't refuse.

Mrs. Nicoletta Elvira Winters, CEO and founder of Elvira, a successful line of beauty and makeup products, or just mom to me, didn't raise a fool.

Plus, he could be the one to end my one-sided love.

Well... maybe not. But he could be a nice distraction until I found the one that did.

"It's no trouble at all." He beamed, coming closer with his hand outstretched. "I'm Luciano, by the way."

"Luciano." His name rolls perfectly off my tongue as my eyes slowly travel across his face. Studying his features one by one, from his thick eyebrows to his cleft chin and everything in between.

There was something about it that seemed familiar. But I can't for the life of me remember where. Maybe I'd seen him around The Rook, the forty-story building catered to a wide range of businesses besides my own. So it was definitely possible.

"Yeah, Luciano Steele. And you are?"

Realizing his hand is still extended, heat crawls up my cheeks as I quickly shake it. "Oh, umm...Scarlett. Scarlett Winters. And thank you for your help."

"No problem." He goes over and examines the flattened tire for himself. "Is this the only one?"

"Yes, thank goodness. Otherwise, I would've needed to call for help."

"Okay, I'll get started then." He slips off his jacket, folds it in half, and lays it on the roof.

A sudden pang of guilt hits me at him risking dirtying his suit to change my tire. But by chance, if he did, I would offer compensation.

"Should I grab the thing that lifts the car?" I asked while he rolls his sleeves to his elbows, revealing his veiny, muscular forearms. My eyes slowly trace one of the veins on his left arm up to the dark swirls peeking out the bottom of his sleeve. But not enough of the tattoo is visible to make out what it is.

"Do you mean the jack?"

My eyes shoot up to his. "Ah, yes," I say, pretending like I didn't know that already.

Sorry, gramps.

He was probably rolling over in his grave. But I'm sure he could forgive me this once if the opportunity led to a possible date then...more.

"No, that's okay. I got it." He says while gathering the tools he needs from my trunk.

I step off to the side, watching him until the gold ribbon attached to the black gift bag on my back seat catches my eye. I check the time on my phone. Shit! There's not much left until the party begins, and I still need to go home and change.

"Uh..." A stray curl falls across my eye, and I brush it back. "I don't mean to rush you. But how long will this take?"

"Don't worry. I'll have it changed in no time." He assures me with a wink.

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