Rain and Reverie

ssing car tires. Maya Evans stood beneath a black awning outside Café Amour, hugging her coat tighter around her slender frame. The collar was damp a

was never on time. But

lashed past and pedestrians hurried by, heads bowed against the rain. The city felt alive in a way that made her heart ache; every stranger

r building a career s

stepped aside to let a young couple pass-a tall man with an umbrella and a laughing woman clinging to his arm

umble into the puddle at her feet. She looked up into eyes the color of stormy skies- grey, intense, and framed by dark

voice was deep, ro

arm back. The heat of his hand linge

ng for someone- or avoiding something. He hesitated,

er, but stranger all the same. She wasn't here for meet-cutes in the rain; she was here to meet Talia, discuss the upcoming event at the

ched her ears. Talia appeared, umbrella flipping inside out as she battled th

as she reached Maya. "I know I'

aking one of the greasy paper b

instantly. The café was cozy but elegant, its navy-blue walls lined with shelves of ol

ush thoughts of the mysterious man from her mind. Bu

een mouthfuls of croi

news or the kind that ends wit

he Morgan Foundation Gala, and they're looking for a fresh face

Morgan Foundation Gala? That's the social

And Cassidy said the potential client is...particular, but

ts she was still trying to sort into a budget, the late nights spent drafting proposals only

f hope-an emotion sh

where?"

.m. Morgan Towe

nter wonderlands, masquerade balls, celestial nights-but Maya cou

...complicated. Brilliant, but guarde

ed a wedding where the bride and mother-in-law refused to be in the sam

lowed to a soft mist. The city lights shimmered on wet streets like diamonds scatte

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wer, the glass cool against his palm as he looked down at the city glitteri

ed the

undation's children's programs. And every year, he felt like a marione

year Cassidy was determined. "We need someone fresh," she'd said. "Someo

houghts. Cassidy peeked in. Her dark hair was pu

ropping the folder on his desk. "Her name i

harity dinners, and intimate parties decorated the pages. His eyes caught on o

re tomorrow mo

ws rose in surpr

e said curtly. "If she can prove herself, we'

ain-speckled glass. He didn't know why, but something about the photos-about her work-had stirred

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n the marble lobby of Morgan Tower, clutching her leather portfolio. She'd spent half the night revi

n Tower was sleek and imposing, its glass and steel reflecting the morning light. The elevator ride

e wood, chrome, and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of th

was

ger from

prise flickered there for an instant befor

"He's the chairman of the Morgan Fo

hand. "Ms. Evans

icity that zipped up her arm at his touc

, gesturing to a sle

sts-about lighting, textures, and emotional storytelling that would leave donors inspired. She showed sket

readable. Every time their gazes met, her words faltered

drummed lightly on the table. His eyes bored into hers, as if

d finally. His voice was soft

ked. "Ex

hy not somethi

ter. I want people to walk away from an event feeling like they experienced something

in his eyes, like a crack in a w

n touch," he said

ssal. But as she gathered her things, she saw

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e didn't know if she'd impressed him. She didn't know if she'd just met

omething had passed between them. Something dangero

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