Julian didn't catch up to her that day. She vanished into the chaos of the city like a magician's trick. But New York had a funny way of folding paths back together.
Three days later, she was there again — across the street from one of Julian's buildings, juggling two paper bags, a coffee, and her phone, all while arguing with a man on the other end of the line.
"No, I can't just call the landlord! You try convincing a building to magically stop leaking through the walls—"
A sudden gust of wind whipped the bags out of her arms. Groceries tumbled into the street, and Julian, watching from the window of his luxury car, reacted before he could think.
The billionaire in the back seat leapt out like a bodyguard.
He scooped up a rolling apple and caught a carton of eggs one-handed. "You again," he said, grinning as she spun around.
"You," she said, blinking. "What, do you live in this neighborhood now?"
Julian handed her the eggs. "Maybe. Or maybe I just appear when produce is endangered."
She cracked a smile. Just barely. But it was there. And he was hooked.
⸻
Her name was Eliza Hart.
She was an assistant director at a nonprofit that ran urban gardens for low-income communities — the kind of job that paid more in stress than salary. She lived in a crumbling walk-up with three roommates, and she didn't have time for rich guys, love, or laundry.
Julian, of course, said none of the above. He introduced himself as Jules — technically true — and claimed he worked in "consulting." Also technically true, just… extremely undersold.
Still, she didn't press. Maybe she liked that he wasn't trying too hard. Maybe she didn't care.
They started meeting up. First "by accident," then with intention.
Late-night walks. Cheap tacos. A rooftop jazz show they snuck into. She told him about her students. He told her about "crazy clients" (leaving out the yachts and IPOs). She made him laugh so hard he almost choked on a dumpling.
He'd spent his life around polished people with curated personalities. But Eliza? She was unfiltered. Messy. Kind. Real.
One night, they sat on the edge of a community garden she helped build. She talked about her dream of turning every abandoned lot in New York into green space. Julian listened like he'd never heard anyone speak before.
And for the first time in years, he felt like someone saw him — not the suit, not the brand — just him.
He wanted to tell her the truth.
But every time he came close, he panicked.
Because the more he fell for her, the more he feared losing her.