Gwh hurried out, practically darting from the room.


    "Wait-Miss Langford!"


    Hans called after her and followed in her wake.


    It wasn''t until Gwh hadpletely disappeared from view that Hawthorne finally left the lounge himself.


    Back at her desk, Gwh opened herputer and started waiting for her character models to render. She idly scrolled through her phone, noticing several messages from Hawthorne-reminders and advice that, while a bit overprotective, were clearly sent with care. She smiled and took them to heart.


    Suddenly, another notification popped up-this time from a number she didn''t recognize. The sender introduced himself:


    "This is Connor."


    "Hi. Did you take the car to the garage? How much is the estimate?"


    After the brief greeting, Connor immediately started browsing her Instagram, curious to see what kind of person she was. But apart from a cartoon avatar and a photo of an old mountainndscape as her header, there wasn''t a single personal detail to be found.


    He was honestly disappointed. For someone as stunning as Gwh, he''d expected at least a few selfies or some artsy snapshots of her daily life. Yet she was so low-key, she''d left absolutely nothing.


    "What do you do for a living?"


    Connor asked. Gwh replied without thinking, "I''m a concept artist."


    Normally, she wouldn''t have bothered chatting with a stranger, but considering she''d just wrecked a car worth several million, the least she could do was be polite. Incidents like this could go either way-if he decided to be difficult, he could easily take her to court.


    "You likeics, right? Judging by the way you drove today, you seem pretty fearless. Want toe watch me race sometime?"


    Gwh hesitated. Aside from watching her mother''s races as a kid and asionally seeing her unclespete, she''d never really been interested in racing. But this was different.


    "When?"


    She wasn''t entirely sure what


    Connor was getting at. In any case,


    it would be easier to talk in pose


    and Settle the bill for the damage once the garage gave their quote.


    She didn''t mention any of this to Hawthorne. It felt like such a minor thing-no


    need to trouble him with every little detail.


    "Saturday. You''re free on Saturday, right?"


    He picked a day she couldn''t reasonably refuse. After a moment, Gwh replied, "Sure."


    Connor sounded pleased. "Great. I''ll pick you up."


    "No need," she shot back. "Just send me the address, I''ll meet you there."


    She had no interest in getting closer to Connor or, for that matter, to any man besides Hawthorne.


    Technically, she hadn''t settled into the role of a married woman yet, but she was married all the same.


    Connor didn''t push. He was a seasoned flirt and knew better than toe on too strong. Patience was key.


    "Courting is like making a good stew," he''d often say to his friends. "You have to let it simmer."


    His friends, however, didn''t buy that their notorious Mr. Kaufman was actually interested in chasing afterza woman. He was famous for shy gifts Jewelry, designer bags, cash and for forgetting names the morning after.


    эле


    "Mr. Kaufman, don''t tell me you''re actually falling for this one."


    Connor flicked a toothpick out of his mouth and handed over a photo he''d secretly snapped of Gwh-though it was only half of her face.


    "Seriously? You can''t even see what she looks like. Is this some kind of secret crush?"


    Connor snorted, snatching his phone back. "No games. I''m serious."


    A chorus of wolf whistles broke out. "Well, who knew? Looks like our Mr.


    Kaufman''s got a heart after all."


    Connornded a yful kick on one friend''s backside, sending the groupughing and shoving their way toward the private bar.