-
IAN'
-
hirty-seven
y acc
't just strategic - it was theatrical. And this mee
hand resting casually in his pocket, his gaze scanning
e
na M
polished rhythm of his
llness was a lie. He could feel it. Like tension strung
lored confidence, cool elegance. No wed
ess wasn't weakne
e before. Long be
ge had neve
-
ive years ag
that blurred streets into watercolor and forced eve
ide for espress
ere sh
dn't know - back then. Her face half-hidden by a coat collar, fingers trembling
sband, he would later realize - spoke w
in the booth like a sta
watched. Quietly. Fully. Memoriz
-
he Presen
ere. Not brok
ish
t unre
s team knew the numbers. Knew the rollout plans and capital strate
r answers. Crisp.
or hesitation
about retail margins and her eyes
r of somet
nitio
atte
had
-
idn't sit. Didn't confront her directly. Just walked to the wi
erview you didn't want a l
d said she di
knew
ber what they write
ker of confusion cross her
Especially the thing
had deleted it after seven days. Probably emba
an didn'
ision. And because I knew it would take so
d. "What do you
y made his m
m in. Turn this into
interested
me the woman the wor
. Guarded. But
o
the door. Let the sil
invitation. To th
asure?" - she said it lightly, b
most honest answe
Bot
ould see the way his hands
wanted... wasn
anym