Chapter 2 Sparks Fly

Evie woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and a sense of regret. The gala had ended late, and she'd stayed longer than she'd intended, nursing a glass of water while replaying her disastrous encounter with Alexander Knight in her mind.

She groaned, burying her face in her pillow. Why had she let Mia talk her into this? She wasn't cut out for fancy parties or arrogant billionaires. She was a freelance graphic designer who spent most of her time in sweatpants, arguing with clients over font choices.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it, squinting at the screen. It was a text from Mia.

Mia: So??? How was it??? Did you meet anyone interesting???*

Evie sighed and typed back.

Evie: I spilled champagne on Alexander Knight. So, no. Not exactly a success.*

Mia: WHAT. You're kidding. Tell me everything.

Evie hesitated, then decided it was easier to call. Mia picked up on the first ring.

"Okay, start from the beginning," Mia said, her voice brimming with excitement. "What happened?"

"It was a disaster," Evie said, sitting up in bed. "He was rude, arrogant, and completely insufferable. And then I spilled champagne all over him."

Mia burst out laughing. "Oh my God, Evie. Only you."

"It's not funny," Evie said, though she couldn't help smiling a little. "He looked at me like I was something he'd scraped off his shoe."

"But he's hot, right?" Mia asked.

Evie hesitated. "I mean... obviously, yes. But his personality ruins it."

"Uh-huh," Mia said, clearly unconvinced. "So, what happened after that?"

"Nothing," Evie said. "He walked away, and I spent the rest of the night trying to avoid him."

"Boring," Mia said. "You should've talked to him again. Maybe he's not as bad as he seems."

"Trust me, he is," Evie said. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm never going to see him again."

Later that evening, Evie found herself at a trendy rooftop bar, thanks to Mia's insistence that she needed to "get back out there." The bar was packed, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the sound of laughter. Evie felt out of place, but she was determined to make the best of it.

She was sipping a cocktail and people-watching when she felt a familiar prickle of awareness. She turned her head and froze.

Alexander Knight was standing at the bar, looking as effortlessly handsome as he had the night before. He was dressed more casually now, in a dark shirt and tailored trousers, but he still exuded an air of power and confidence that made him stand out in the crowd.

Evie's heart skipped a beat. What were the odds?

She quickly turned away, hoping he hadn't seen her. But it was too late. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him straighten, his gaze locking onto hers.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, to her surprise, he started walking toward her.

Evie's mind raced. Should she run? Pretend she hadn't seen him? But before she could decide, he was standing in front of her, his expression unreadable.

"Evie," he said, her name rolling off his tongue.

"Mr. Knight," she replied, forcing a polite smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Alexander," he corrected. "And I could say the same to you."

She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I didn't think this was your kind of place."

"It's not," he said. "I'm here for a business meeting. But it seems fate has other plans."

Evie raised an eyebrow. "Fate?"

He smirked. "You don't believe in fate?"

"Not really," she said. "I think we make our own destiny."

"Interesting," he said, his gaze lingering on her face. "And what does your destiny hold, Evie?"

She hesitated, caught off guard by the intensity of his stare. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I'm sure it doesn't involve spilling drinks on arrogant billionaires."

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Touché."

They lapsed into silence, the tension between them palpable. Evie could feel the weight of his gaze, and it made her skin tingle. She took a sip of her drink, trying to steady her nerves.

"So," he said after a moment, "what do you do, Evie?"

"I'm a graphic designer," she said. "Freelance."

"Creative," he said, nodding. "I admire that."

She blinked, surprised by the compliment. "Thanks."

"Do you enjoy it?" he asked.

"Most of the time," she said. "It's not always easy, but I love what I do."

He studied her for a moment, as if trying to figure her out. "You're not like most people I meet," he said finally.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked.

"Good," he said, his voice softening. "Definitely good."

Evie's breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she forgot how to speak.

Alexander leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur. "You're intriguing, Evie. I can't quite figure you out."

"Maybe I don't want to be figured out," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.