Chapter 3

SEBASTIAN

I stare out the window and into the buzzing streets below, my mind drifting off to the stranger I had met earlier today.

She is young but daring—something I never encounter in a woman these days.

Like I ever encounter any.

The women I hear about and see hanging around men in my restaurant look easy—like human beings in skirts that dance to your every tune, no matter how silly or loud that tune might be.

That’s boring.

Maybe that’s why I never take the time to date. But this girl… She has just the right amount of attitude to get on my nerves while holding me onto a thread.

I mean…

I allow my thoughts to trail off, bringing my finger to stroke my lower lip, still staring into space.

I’m still thinking of that kiss.

My first kiss.

The three knocks that echo into the silence pull me from my thoughts as I turn my head in that direction.

The door glides open, and Loren strides in without uttering a word, as usual.

But instead of coming alone, she’s with a female this time—a person I could care less about.

“What is it?” I meet with Loren, clearing my throat deliberately to stop my brain from thinking about the stranger I’ll probably never see again.

She’s probably already in school.

NO! Stop thinking about her, Sebastian.

I find Loren’s expecting gaze striking me, knowing she’s expecting a reply… a reply to something I didn’t hear.

I ask her to come again, and she responds, “She’s asking for a job.”

“Who?” I ask nonchalantly, part of me wondering why Loren was bringing an applicant to my office.

That’s why you’re the manager, Loren.

“Her…”

I tilt to the side to see the female Loren had walked in with earlier, only to find a short figure almost entirely covered in a black hoodie with her hands over her face.

“Excuse me, miss?” I say as I dabble my head as if trying to see between her small, slender fingers.

As the frustration builds up, I turn to Loren, who’s doing almost the same thing I do. “Loren? I have important things to attend to.” I face the strange female again. “Listen, if you’re not ready, I suggest you leave.”

I draw my gaze away from Loren and the weird female as I stroll towards the window, craving my solitude so I can resume my thoughts. But before I reach my beloved window, I hear a familiar voice yelp, “I need a job!”

I snap my head to retake a look at the female.

Same height, same voice…

As her hands drop from her face, I find her pouty, puffy lips, which I can see are sightly rose-colored with a peachy hue.

Same lips!

That’s the stranger who kissed me!

I stare in disbelief as my heart jitters at the sight of someone I almost concluded I’d never see again. But as the awareness hits me, my jittering heart sinks into a hole of rage. She did not only invade my privacy, but on top of that, she dared to assault me. For all I know, she could be an outlaw or a disease carrier.

“You!” My roar fills the room as I stomp to meet her, her timid appearance sending a shock wave of familiar memories to my brain. “What are you doing here?” the anger in my voice weakens as she meets my gaze with her honey-brown eyes, protected by her long, curly eyelashes.

Sebastian, you’re supposed to be angry, remember?

“Hi…” she squeals as Loren steps back, her appearance showing nothing but total confusion at what is happening.

“What are you doing here?” I quickly shift my gaze to Loren. “Call the authorities.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wait. Please. I’m sorry. I need your help.”

“What help?”

“She came looking for a job, sir. But I thought she looked too young and…”

“Are you stalking me?” I almost stab her with my piercing gaze as she lowers herself, almost trembling.

“I swear, I’m not.”

“Did you follow me?” I inch nearer to her, my breath practically grazing her skin with its intensity. “Are the police on their way here right now? Are you a criminal?”

Loren’s sudden yelp jolts me into the realization that there are more than two of us in this space.

My muscles tense, and I instinctively draw back, putting some distance between myself and the two figures before me, retreating to the sanctuary of my window. As I inhale, I force myself to calm the brewing storm of emotions.

At my exhale, I say to Loren, my voice more collected and calm than before, “Please, excuse us.”

I don’t turn back until the door clicks shut, and I’m sure we are alone. “Tell me why you’re really here.”

“Look…” she starts as she leaps forward.

“Stay there!”

She freezes.

Realizing the agitation in my voice, I clear my throat, balancing myself into the most confident stance I could muster, and calmly say, “Don’t come any closer so that history doesn’t repeat itself.”

“Oh, sorry,” she says, her stance widening as her hands ascend to her waist, fingers intertwining and fidgeting in a nervous dance. “Er—I need a job.”

“What type of job?”

“Anything… I can do anything.”

“You haven’t failed to make that clear,” I fold my arms across my chest, maintaining my gaze on her as I fight to resist the urge to register the breathtaking qualities of her features fully—

The ones I can see.

“What’s your name?”

“Dahlia,” she responds, dropping her gaze to the floor as the few strands of her chestnut autumn hair fall to her face, caressing her thick eyebrows and the edge of her lips.

“You say you need a job. Why?”

“‘Cause I need the money.”

As her words reach my ears, I feel my brows knit together, rising from my newfound realization.

“Are you a thief? Was that why the officers were chasing you? Did you steal money?”

“What? No!” a flicker of surprise dances across her features as her eyes widen. “I might have done some immoral things, but I am not a thief.”

A nonchalant shrug escapes me, one shoulder inching upwards while my eyebrows ascend, an expression that betrays my underlying sense of skepticism.

“Then why were you running from the law?” I finally ask.

“I wasn’t running from the law.”

“I found you hiding in the garbage closet from law enforcement officers who were clearly planning to arrest you. On top of that, you were overly desperate to get away from them, even kissing a stranger just to reach your freedom. That seems like you were running from the law to me.”

A fleeting hush settles between us, her pause carrying an air of anticipation as if she’s carefully shaping her words. Then, with a subtle parting of her lips, she starts. “Look…” Her eyes find mine, trapping my heart all over again. “I know you might not like me…”

“I don’t like anyone,” I insert, looking away from her as I stride to my seat from my tired legs.

“Yeah, but,” my gaze follows me. “I’m not a thief, an outlaw, a criminal, or whatever you think I am.”

“A pervert?” I drop to my seat, crossing my legs, as I relax into the comfort of my leather-coated chair.

She lets out a languid sigh from her lips as she navigates the distance to my table, her hands making purposeful contact with the surface. “I don’t regret our kiss,” she says.