She Misses Her Ride At A Hotel, Not Realizing The Millionaire Who Offers A Lift Will Fall For Her
The Chance Encounter at the Grand Lexington
Dela Foster’s heels snapped clean off as the glossy double doors of the Grand Lexington Hotel swung shut behind her. And with it, the last of her luck vanished.
She staggered forward, blinking at the empty valet lane. “No, no, no,” she muttered, gripping the handle of her tote bag while the other hand clutched a half-crushed paper cup of hotel coffee.
“Please tell me he didn’t just—”
A sleek black town car turned the corner and drove away, her ride disappearing into Manhattan traffic. Are you kidding me?
She shouted after it, waving her arms like she could flag it back with sheer desperation, but it was gone just like that. Her cousin had left without her.
She looked down at her broken heel, then up at the gray clouds rolling in. “Of course, of course it was going to rain.”
“Rough morning,” a deep voice said behind her.
Dela turned, startled. A man in a navy suit leaned casually against a silver Aston Martin parked in the private lane beside the hotel.
He had his sleeves rolled up, an expensive watch glinting on his wrist. His tie was loosened like he didn’t care about rules, and his hair was just messy enough to look good on purpose.
His eyes were sharp green. Curious, she straightened, suddenly aware of her coffee-stained blouse and thrifted pencil skirt.
“You could say that.”
“Miss your ride?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess: you saw the whole thing and figured I’m one more broken shoe away from a meltdown?”
He smiled, easy and amused, like he did it often. “I was going to offer you a ride, actually.”
Dela blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I’m headed downtown. Looks like you are too.”
He gestured to the cab line, which was now backed up with hotel guests and honking taxis. “Or you can wait here and get yelled at by five different drivers.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Do you always offer rides to stranded women outside of luxury hotels?”
“Only the ones who look like they’re about to cry but are too proud to admit it.”
Her lips parted, offended and maybe a little impressed. “I’m not crying.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s why I like you already.”
She stared at him. “I don’t even know your name.”
He opened the passenger door of the Aston like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Ian Elwood.”
She hesitated. “Dela. Nice to meet you, Dela.”
“You have about 5 seconds before it starts pouring.”
As if on cue, a fat raindrop splashed on the concrete between them. Dela groaned. “Fine, but if you’re a psycho, I swear I’ll jump out at the next red light.”
Ian laughed as she climbed in. “Fair enough.”
Inside the car smelled like leather and something expensive she couldn’t place. The seats wrapped around her like she just sat down in a cloud.
The city buzzed past as he pulled into traffic with a smoothness that made her stomach flip.
“So,” he said, glancing sideways. “What were you doing at the Grand Lexington? Job interview?”
“Temp agency sent me,” she said, trying to smooth her skirt. “Assistant to the assistant of someone who probably doesn’t remember my name.”
“I doubt that.”
She gave him a look. “Why?”
“You’re not the kind of person people forget.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she looked away. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you’re stubborn and you didn’t want to accept help, but you did anyway. That tells me a lot.”
Dela crossed her arms. “What about you? You hang out at hotels waiting for women in distress?”
He grinned. “Nope. I was there for a meeting, but I saw you on the steps and something told me not to get in the car until I spoke to you.”
She glanced at him. “That sounds like a line.”
“Maybe it is. But I meant it.”
They stopped at a light. Dela stared out at the buildings, trying to ignore how good he smelled or how intense his gaze felt.
“So what do you do, Elwood?” she asked, keeping her tone casual.
“I run a company,” he said simply. “Investments, real estate. A few other things.”
“Must be nice,” she muttered.
He glanced at her. “What?”
She looked at him. “To have your life together. To not be one missed ride away from losing a job you don’t even have yet.”
His voice softened. “Everyone’s missed a ride at least once. You just happen to miss yours at the right time.”
Dela snorted. “Right. Because getting in a stranger’s car on a rainy Tuesday morning is exactly how my grandma imagined I’d start my career.”
Ian smiled again. “Well, I’m glad you did.”
They pulled up to her building and Dela reached for the door handle quickly, needing to escape the warmth of that car before it melted her completely.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said.
“Wait,” Ian said. “Can I see you again?”
She blinked. “What?”
“Dinner, drinks. Something that doesn’t involve broken heels or spilled coffee.”
Dela hesitated. “Why?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if I hadn’t spoken to you on those steps,” he said, “and I don’t want to find out.”
Her heart did something strange then, like it skipped a beat and then tripped over itself trying to restart. She bit her lip. “I don’t usually do this.”
“I don’t either,” he said, eyes never leaving hers.
She paused, then gave a small nod. “Okay. Dinner.”
Ian’s smile stretched wider. “Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up.”
He handed her a card. It was thick, matte black, and had nothing but his name and a number engraved in silver.
Dela climbed out, still a little dazed, and watched his car disappear into the mist.
She glanced down at the card: Ian Elwood. She had no idea who he really was, but something told her she was about to find out.
