Lila Sterling adjusted her earbuds, the soft hum of jazz filling her senses as she stepped into the crowded subway. New York City pulsed around her, a symphony of chaos and ambition. At twenty-eight, she was a rising choreographer, her latest contemporary dance piece set to premiere at the prestigious Horizon Theater in three months. But today, her mind wasn't on pirouettes or stage lights. It was on the email she'd received that morning: her funding was at risk unless she could secure a corporate sponsor.
She sighed, weaving through the crowd, when a sharp jolt sent her stumbling. Her coffee cup flew from her hand, splashing across a stranger's crisp white shirt.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry!" Lila gasped, yanking out her earbuds.
The man looked down at the stain, then up at her with a wry smile. "Well, that's one way to make an impression."
He was tall, with tousled dark hair and hazel eyes that sparkled with amusement. His tailored suit screamed Wall Street, but his easy grin was anything but corporate. Lila fumbled for napkins in her bag, her cheeks burning.
"Here, let me—" she started, but he waved her off.
"It's just a shirt. I've got worse problems." He extended a hand. "Ethan Caldwell."
"Lila Sterling." She shook his hand, noticing the warmth of his grip. "I owe you a coffee. Or a new shirt."
He chuckled. "I'll take the coffee. Maybe tomorrow?"
Lila blinked, caught off guard by the invitation. "Uh, sure. There's a café near Lincoln Center. Brewed Awakening, 8 a.m.?"
"Deal." Ethan's smile lingered as the subway doors opened, and he disappeared into the crowd.
Lila stood frozen, her heart doing an unexpected twirl. She wasn't one for chance encounters, but something about Ethan Caldwell felt like the opening note of a song she hadn't heard before.