Brian Carter had attended more university galas than he cared to count. His father called them "opportunities." To Brian, they were obligations tedious evenings wrapped in stiff suits and polished smiles. He was expected to show his face, charm the donors, and let Clarissa, his perfectly groomed fiancée, shine on his arm.

Nothing ever surprised him at these events.

Until tonight.

He saw her the moment he stepped into the hall. The girl from the diner standing near the doorway, hair damp from the drizzle outside, clutching a bag like a soldier clinging to a shield. She didn't blend in like the others. No carefully rehearsed laugh, no designer gown. She looked like she'd stumbled into the wrong world entirely and yet Brian couldn't look away.

Her eyes met his. Wide, startled, recognition flashing through it. And then she flushed, gaze darting down as if she'd been caught doing something forbidden.

Something inside his chest shifted an ache he hadn't felt in years.

"Darling," Clarissa's voice cut in, smooth and practiced. She curled her hand around his arm, her diamond catching the chandelier's glow. "They're waiting for us."

Brian blinked, tore his gaze away, and let her guide him forward. He reminded himself who he was, where he was, and why. Clarissa's family aligned with his. Their engagement wasn't about love but legacy. Tonight, like every night, he had a part to play.

Still, as they made their rounds, shaking hands with professors and trustees, Brian caught himself searching the crowd. Looking for her.

And then she was there.

At the refreshment table, next to a petite brunette with a mischievous grin who seemed to be doing all the talking. The girl from the diner his girl, his mind betrayed him stood stiffly, mortified at the attention.

Clarissa's presence sharpened beside him. Her posture straightened, her grip on his arm just a little too tight. Brian should have kept walking. But when the brunette joked about "nearly dying for the last slice of pie," the words left his lips before he could stop them.

"If she nearly died for it," he said evenly, "then by all means... let her have it."

The girl looked up at him then. Properly.

Her lips parted in surprise, her lashes fluttering as though she didn't know what to do under the weight of his gaze. She whispered a shy thank you, voice barely audible over the chatter of the hall.

It shouldn't have meant anything. But Brian felt the echo of her words ripple through him, unexpected and unsettling.

Clarissa tugged on his arm. "Darling, the board members are waiting." Her smile was perfect, practiced, though her eyes carried the sharpness of someone who noticed too much.

Brian allowed himself to be pulled away, slipping easily back into his role the charming heir, the future CEO, the fiancé. It was the sensible choice. The expected choice.

But as he opened the car door for Clarissa later that night, his gaze betrayed him one last time. Across the parking lot, she stood frozen, still clutching her bag, still staring into the night as though she wasn't sure what had just happened.

For a fleeting second, her eyes lifted. Met his.

Something passed between them then. Something neither of them spoke, but both of them felt.

Brian tore his gaze away first, sliding into the car beside Clarissa. He told himself it was nothing. That she was nothing. Just a face in the crowd he keeps on running into.

And yet, as the car pulled away, he realized with a jolt of irritation and something darker, more dangerous that he was already wondering when he would see her again.

"Hopefully soon".

Chapter 4 Brian

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