CEO Loses Wallet In Small Town Street, Never Expecting To Fall For The Honest Woman Who Returns It
The Bookstore and the Reluctant Help
His lips pressed together. “And yet you didn’t seem tempted to keep my wallet.”
Elina laughed. “I don’t think I’d get very far with it.”
His curiosity deepened. “What do you do, Elina Wells?”
“I run the bookstore down the street,” she said, nodding toward a cozy-looking shop with large windows and a faded wooden sign. “Nothing as exciting as corporate takeovers, but it pays the bills.”
Sebastian didn’t know what possessed him to say it, but the words slipped out before he could stop them.
“Have dinner with me.”
Elina blinked. “What?”
“Dinner,” he repeated, as if he was suggesting a business deal. “As a thank you.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
He rarely did things he didn’t have to do. She hesitated, then shook her head with a soft chuckle.
“I don’t think so.”
Sebastian wasn’t used to being turned down. Women chased after him, not the other way around. And yet, as Elina Wells walked away, something inside him told him he wasn’t done with her. Not even close.
Sebastian’s mind should have been on his next move. How to get out of this town and back to his world of power and control.
Instead, he found himself staring through the cafe window at the bookstore across the street—the one Elina Wells had casually mentioned as her own.
It was quaint, with a deep blue facade and golden lettering that had faded with time. A bell jangled as someone pushed through the door.
For a fleeting moment, he caught sight of her inside. She was tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke to a customer.
He had no business lingering. He had meetings to reschedule, clients to placate, and a private jet waiting once his driver returned.
And yet, his feet carried him forward before he could talk himself out of it. The scent of aged paper and polished wood greeted him as he stepped inside.
The store wasn’t large, but it had a warmth that was foreign to him. Shelves were lined with well-loved books.
There was a reading nook with an overstuffed armchair and handwritten recommendation cards placed carefully beside certain titles.
Elina stood behind the counter, counting change into an elderly woman’s palm. She glanced up as the customer left, her eyebrows lifting in mild surprise.
“You again?”
Sebastian leaned against the wooden counter, studying her. “Didn’t think you’d see me again, did you?”
Her lips twitched, but she didn’t look overly impressed. “No. I figured you’d be halfway back to New York by now.”
“I would be if my driver hadn’t run into an issue with the car.”
“Ah.” She didn’t seem remotely phased by his presence. “So you decided to kill time by wandering into my bookstore?”
“Something like that.”
He glanced at the shelves. “I take it business is steady?”
“As steady as it can be in a town where most people borrow books from the library instead of buying them.” Her voice held no bitterness, just a quiet acceptance.
“You do this alone?”
She nodded. “My parents ran this place for years before retiring. I took over. It’s not exactly a gold mine, but it’s home.”
Sebastian couldn’t comprehend the idea of staying in one place simply because it was familiar. He had spent his life chasing more.
More success, more power, more wealth. The idea of choosing comfort over ambition was foreign.
“Why didn’t you take the wallet?” he asked abruptly, his curiosity getting the better of him.
She blinked at the question. “Excuse me?”
“You could have kept it. No one would have known.”
Elina gave him a look that suggested she found the question ridiculous. “I would have known.”
Her answer was so simple, so obvious to her, yet it struck him in a way he hadn’t expected. He was used to negotiations.
He was used to people weighing their choices based on what they could gain. Honesty wasn’t something that simply existed.
It was a rare commodity. A currency most people spent only when convenient.
She turned to stack a few books on a nearby display, clearly unbothered by the conversation.
“You must deal with a lot of dishonest people if that surprises you.”
Sebastian let out a dry laugh. “You have no idea.”
Elina didn’t press for details, and he found himself oddly grateful for it. Most people would have pried, eager for a glimpse into the life of a man like him.
But she seemed content to let him exist in her shop without expectation. A moment of silence stretched between them before she spoke again.
“If you’re looking to pass the time, I can recommend a book.”
He arched a brow. “You think I have time to read?”
“I think you have time right now.”
She pulled a hardcover from the shelf and set it in front of him. “Try this.”
Sebastian eyed the book, then her. “You don’t even know what I like.”
“I don’t need to,” she said with a knowing smile. “You look like someone who forgets to slow down.”
He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or irritated by her accuracy.
Before he could respond, the bell above the door rang again. A man walked in, his expression warm as he greeted Elina.
Sebastian watched as she smiled back, easily slipping into conversation with the newcomer. Something unexpected curled in his stomach at the sight.
It wasn’t jealousy—he had never been the jealous type—but there was something unsettling about the way she fit so seamlessly into this world.
How effortlessly she belonged. He didn’t belong here. He never would.
And yet, as he stood there with a book in his hands that he had no intention of reading, he realized he wasn’t in any rush to leave.
