notice you standing here. Are you

lost? The subway station is three

blocks down to the left. If you need a

place to sit out of the cold, there is a

public park just across the street."

He didn't offer to check a

reservation. He didn't ask if she was

waiting for a party. He went straight

for the dismissal, cloaked in false

helpfulness.

The woman’s expression did not

change, but a knowing glint

appeared in her eyes. She looked

Julian up and down, taking in his

expensive suit and his hostile

posture. "I am not lost, Mr. Vance,"

she said calmly. "And I am quite

aware of where the subway is. I am

exactly where I intend to be. I am

waiting."

"Waiting?" Julian echoed, letting a

short, humorless laugh escape his

lips. "Waiting for what, exactly? A

miracle? Madam, this is a highly

exclusive restaurant. We are fully

booked months in advance. One does

not simply walk in and 'wait' unless

they are part of a party that has

already secured a table. And looking

at you... I find it highly improbable

that you are joining any of our

guests tonight."

The words were incredibly blunt,

stripped of the last remaining shreds

of professional courtesy. Julian

wanted her gone, and he wanted her

gone quickly.

"I am waiting for the dinner

service to settle," the woman replied,

ignoring his insult entirely. "I have

some business to attend to here."

"Business?" Julian’s voice rose a

fraction of an octave. "The only

business you could possibly have

here is to use our facilities, which, I

must inform you, are strictly for

paying customers. I must ask you to

leave. Immediately."

"I have no need for your facilities

at the moment," she said, her voice

remaining perfectly level. "And I

have no intention of leaving just yet.

I am simply observing. Is observing

against your precious rules, Mr.

Vance?"

Julian felt a flush of genuine

anger rising in his neck. He was used

to obsequious apologies. He was

used to people crumbling under his

authoritative glare. He was certainly

not used to being quietly defied by a

woman in a moth-eaten coat.

Chapter 4: A Word of

Warning

"Madam, you are testing my

patience," Julian hissed, stepping

closer to her to keep his voice down.

He did not want to cause a scene, but

her stubbornness was making it

difficult. "This is not a museum. You

cannot stand here and 'observe.' You

are making my guests

uncomfortable. You do not fit the

dress code, you do not have a

reservation, and frankly, you cannot

afford a glass of water in this room."

The woman tilted her head

slightly, studying him as if he were a

fascinating, albeit disappointing,

insect. "You place a great deal of

importance on appearances, don't