Young Millionaire Stops a Rude Man from Harassing a Woman, Never Suspecting He’d End Up Loving Her
The Spark on the Sidewalk
Hayes Hollister didn’t usually interfere in strangers’ arguments. But when he saw the man grab the woman’s wrist in the middle of the sidewalk, his instincts kicked in like a reflex.
“Let go of her,” Hayes said, his voice sharp and low.
The man, a guy in a wrinkled blazer who reeked of cheap cologne and entitlement, turned, laughing in disbelief.
“Who the hell are you?”
Before Hayes could answer, the woman yanked her arm free and stepped back, her eyes wide but steady. She had this unshaken fierceness about her that caught Hayes off guard, even in a tense moment like this.
“He’s no one,” she said quickly, brushing her long dark curls out of her face. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Hayes said, eyes still on the guy. “You’re clearly being harassed.”
“Back off,” the man started.
But Hayes stepped forward, towering over him, calm but firm. “You’ve got three seconds before I make this a scene you’ll regret.”
The man backed down, muttering something under his breath as he stormed off into the crowd. The woman turned to Hayes, clearly annoyed.
“I had it under control.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Sure looked like it.”
“I didn’t ask for help.”
“Well, you got it anyway,” he said.
She crossed her arms. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Anytime.”
He was about to walk away, but something about her stopped him. Maybe it was the way she held her chin high or the fire in her eyes. Either way, he wasn’t ready to pretend he hadn’t seen her.
“I’m Hayes,” he said.
She hesitated, then replied, “Paloma Zeller.”
“Nice to meet you, Paloma Zeller.”
She gave him a look. “You always introduce yourself after you’ve played the hero?”
“Only when the woman I helped looks like she might punch me next.”
Her lips twitched, almost a smile. The street buzzed with traffic and chatter, but the space between them felt oddly still.
“Are you okay?” he asked, a little softer this time.
She nodded. “Yeah, just tired of men thinking they’re entitled to a woman’s time.”
Hayes nodded. “Fair enough.”
She looked at him again, this time really looking. He wore a fitted navy suit jacket, open at the collar with no tie. His watch looked expensive. His confidence didn’t seem forced.
But what threw her off most was that he didn’t seem like he needed anything from her.
“You from around here?” he asked casually.
“No, I just moved here,” she said. “I’m interviewing for a position at a design firm, Xander and Co.”
He recognized it. “They’re good.”
She blinked. “You know them?”
“Yeah, I’ve worked with them on a few projects. You’re in design?”
“Something like that,” she asked.
He smiled slightly. Before she could ask more, he took a step back, checking his watch.
“I’ve got a meeting. But if you ever want to talk to someone who’s worked with Xander or just want to grab a real coffee—one without guys like that around—I’m in the building across from the park, top floor. Ask for me.”
She squinted. “Hayes Hollister?”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she recovered fast. “Wait, Hollister as in Hollister Group?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, you’re that Hayes,” she said.
He gave a small shrug. “Guilty.”
And then he was gone, disappearing into a black town car that pulled up just in time.
