WORTH THE GAMBLE

CHAPTER TWO

CHARLOTTE

Never in my life have I been in such an earth-shatteringly embarrassing situation.

When I crossed the threshold of the restaurant's entrance, I had braced myself for a mundane reception, expecting nothing beyond the ordinary. Little did I know, oh, how so mistaken I was.

I was shoved like something extremely insignificant—by a group of children into the lap of the MOST handsome man to have walked this planet. Even saying that is putting it lightly.

I was thrown off guard. By the kids. By the attractiveness of that man. By the whole damn situation.

I'm not one to be easily baffled. I'm in control all the damn time. At least I try my damnedest.

But I stood there blushing unable to make eye contact. Like a damn idiot.

I follow the waitress keeping my composure as she points towards the booth and says ''Call me when you're ready to order.'' I nod at her as she leaves.

As I place my purse on the edge of the table and slip out of my coat to get comfortable, a subtle awareness tingled through my senses as I felt the magnetic pull of someone's gaze.

Is it him?

I curse at the anticipation growing at the thought of it being him.

Regaining control over my racing thoughts, I scold myself for allowing a fleeting encounter to stir such anticipation. "Come on, it's just a guy you saw for a brief minute." I chide myself, trying to inject a note of practicality into the whirlwind of emotions.

I still can't help it as my mind wanders to him. How he towered over me with his tall and clearly muscular body. His dark hair tousled like he'd been running his hand through them throughout the day —fallen gracefully on his forehead. The way his piercing azure-blue eyes, looked at me with interest and amusement. His sharp jawline, accentuated by a day's worth of stubble, added a touch of rugged masculinity.

In a crisp white shirt, with a few buttons casually left undone, hints of his strong chest peeking through. The sleeves pushed up just enough to expose strong forearms—oh those porn worthy forearms.

His voice. The resonance of his deep voice, a subtle warmth unfurled within me, resonating like a gentle vibration. In that instant, I felt a soft flutter, as if the vibrations of his voice had gently stirred the air around me. There was a richness to the depth, a sonorous quality that seemed to linger, leaving an indelible impression.

A ping pulls me out of my absurd train of thought. It's my phone.

Valentina: Sorry! The traffic is terrible. Will be there soon!

I let out a sigh as I exited the messaging app and opened my Emails. Might as well get a few things done while waiting for my fashionably late best friend.

I try my hardest to ignore the gaze fixed on me. I don't dare look up.

The clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation provide a backdrop to the unspoken tension. I could feel the weight of his interest, his eyes a persistent presence, tracing my every move. Inwardly, I try to muster a shield of indifference, reminding myself that I was here to enjoy a meal with a friend, not to unravel under the intensity of someone else's scrutiny.

Yet, beneath the veneer of nonchalance, a subtle internal struggle persisted.

I take in a deep breath trying to calm the conflict inside me and look up in time to see my friend strutting her way through the busy restaurant.

The ambiance of the place seemed to lift as she moved towards me, a huge smile danced on her face as her tall body engulfed me in a hug.

We remain like that for a few seconds, and then I nudge her to take my previous spot as I slide into the seat across her.