Billionaire Slipped On Ice, A Woman Aided Him. He Had No Clue He’d Soon Be Head Over Heels For Her
An Unexpected Encounter
Nicholas Preston never saw it coming. One moment he was striding across the icy sidewalk outside his Manhattan office tower. His mind was preoccupied with billion-dollar deals and boardroom politics.
The next, his foot slid out from beneath him and he was airborne. The impact was brutal. His back hit the pavement with a sickening thud. A sharp jolt of pain shot up his spine.
He groaned, dazed, staring up at the gray winter sky.
“Are you okay?”
A soft, concerned voice broke through his haze. He blinked and found himself looking up at a woman crouched beside him.
Wisps of dark brown hair peeked out from under her knitted hat. Her wide green eyes were filled with worry. She reached out a gloved hand.
“I think,” he shifted, wincing. “I think my ego is more bruised than anything else.”
She huffed out a small laugh. “Well, that’s a relief. You fell pretty hard.”
Nicholas hesitated before taking her hand. His palm dwarfed hers as she helped him sit up. He wasn’t used to people assisting him, especially strangers.
He was Nicholas Preston, billionaire CEO of Preston Enterprises. He had an army of assistants, bodyguards, and employees at his beck and call.
Yet here was this woman kneeling in the snow, offering her help without hesitation.
“Do you think you can stand?” she asked.
Nicholas tested his legs before nodding. “Yeah, I should be fine.”
She stood up, gripping his arm as he pushed himself upright. He swayed slightly and her hands shot out to steady him.
He caught a whiff of her vanilla-scented perfume, a stark contrast to the cold city air.
“Careful,” she murmured. “Maybe you should sit down for a second.”
He exhaled, frustrated with himself. “I don’t usually fall on my face in broad daylight.”
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?”
Nicholas found himself staring. There was something refreshingly unpretentious about her. No recognition flashed in her eyes. No hint that she knew who he was.
“Thank you,” he paused, realizing he didn’t know her name.
“Willow. Willow Fairchild.”
“Willow?”
He repeated the name, testing it on his tongue. It suited her.
“I appreciate your help,” he said.
She shrugged. “No big deal. Just looking out for my fellow New Yorkers.”
Nicholas ran a hand through his hair, feeling an odd sense of gratitude.
“Can I at least buy you a coffee for your trouble?”
She laughed. “For my trouble? You make it sound like I performed surgery on you.”
He arched a brow. “You practically saved my life.”
She shook her head, amused. “Fine. One coffee, but only because I was heading that way anyway.”
Nicholas had no idea why he was so relieved. Minutes later, they stepped into a cozy little cafe. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filled the air.
Willow ordered a caramel latte while Nicholas opted for black coffee.
“So,” she said as they settled into a corner booth. “What were you in such a hurry for?”
“Meetings,” he answered vaguely.
“Work?” she sipped her drink. “Stressful job?”
“You could say that.”
She studied him for a moment before grinning. “Let me guess: Wall Street guy. Finance.”
Nicholas smirked. “Something like that.”
Willow leaned back, crossing her arms. “You have the look. The expensive suit. The air of someone who’s constantly thinking about profits and losses.”
He chuckled. “Is that a bad thing?”
She tilted her head. “Not necessarily. Just not my world.”
Nicholas found himself intrigued. “And what’s your world?”
“I’m an artist,” she said simply.
An artist. That explained the paint smudges on her fingertips and the sketchbook peeking out of her bag.
“Do you paint?” he asked.
“Mostly. Some illustration, too.”
Nicholas had never been one for art, but he found himself wanting to know more.
“Do you sell your work?”
Willow hesitated. “Sometimes. It’s not always easy, but I love it.”
There was something admirable about that. About choosing passion over financial security.
Before he could respond, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen.
“I have to go,” she said apologetically. “I have a class to teach.”
“A class?”
She nodded. “I teach art to kids at a community center.”
Nicholas suppressed a smile. Of course she did.
“Well,” she said, standing. “It was nice meeting you, Nicholas.”
He didn’t want her to leave just yet. “Let me walk you out.”
Outside, the wind had picked up, swirling snowflakes around them. Willow pulled her coat tighter around her.
“Thank you again,” Nicholas said.
She grinned. “For what? Helping you not break your back?”
“For the coffee,” he said, surprising himself. “And the conversation.”
Willow hesitated before nodding. “Take care, Nicholas.”
She turned and walked away, disappearing into the bustling city crowd.
Nicholas stood there for a moment, an unfamiliar feeling settling in his chest. He had no idea why, but something told him this wasn’t the last time he’d see her.
