The women in that room practically sparkled for him. Their laughter got louder when he walked past, their perfume clouded the air around him, and yet... none of it impressed me. I'd seen that type before: men who thought the world was theirs for the taking. Men who broke hearts for sport. My father had been one of them.
So when Alex Knight stopped in front of me and said, "Hi, I don't think we've met," I didn't even give him a smile. I just said, "You're right. We haven't. And we don't need to."
Then I turned away.
I half expected him to push, to insist, to prove he couldn't take no for an answer. Men like him usually don't hear the word. But when I glanced sideways, I saw him frozen with that smile plastered on his face, like I'd short-circuited his brain. That was my cue to leave.
By Monday morning, I was back in my office, trying to forget him.
"Tell me everything,"Maya said as she plopped into the chair across from my desk. She was my best friend since college, co-founder of our event planning business, and the kind of woman who lived for gossip.
"There's nothing to tell."
She gave me a look. "You can't just say that with that expression on your face."
"What expression?" I asked, flipping through the budget sheets.
"The one that says, 'I annoyed someone powerful, and I'm secretly proud of it.'"
I sighed. Maya could read me too well. "Fine. He tried to talk to me. I told him we didn't need to meet. That's it."
Her mouth dropped open. "You rejected Alexander Knight?"
"Rejected is a strong word. I dismissed him."
"That's even worse!" she squealed, clapping her hands. "Oh my God, Sophiabecause you know how many women would kill to be in that man's bed?"
"Which is exactly why I want no part of him," I said firmly. "He's not my type."
"Not your type, or too much your type?"
I threw a pencil at her. "Go do your job."
She ducked, laughing as she left.
The truth was, Alexander Knight was dangerously close to my type, at least on the surface. Tall, devastatingly handsome, confident. The kind of man who could walk into any room and own it. But beneath that? He was every red flag I'd learned to run from.
My phone buzzed. A text from Mom.
"Dinner at six tonight. Don't be late, Sophia. Your brother's bringing his new girlfriend".
Great. Another evening of being grilled about my love life.
My parents lived in Queens, in the same twostory brick house they'd bought thirty years ago. I loved them, but I wasn't in the mood for their questions. Especially not after a long day of wrangling vendors and trying to convince a high strung bride that the world wouldn't end if her roses were ivory instead of cream.
"Sweetheart!" Mom hugged me tight when I walked in, the smell of garlic and tomatoes clinging to her apron. "You look tired. Are you working too much again?"
"I'm fine, Mom."
"Fine means not fine," she muttered, ushering me to the dining room.
My brother, Daniel, was already there with his new girlfriend, a bubbly blonde named Marissa who laughed too loudly. Dad sat at the head of the table, glasses low on his nose, scrolling through the news on his phone.
Dinner was the usual chaos. Mom fussing, Dad grumbling, Daniel showing off his girlfriend. And inevitably, the question came.
"So, Sophia," Dad said, not looking up from his phone. "Any special man in your life?"
I stabbed a piece of chicken. "Nope."
Marissa giggled. "Oh, come on, a woman as beautiful as you? You must have someone chasing you."
My mother sighed dramatically. "She's too picky."
I bit back a smile. If only they knew I'd just dismissed the city's most eligible billionaire.
Later that night, as I drove home, I replayed the moment at the gala in my head. The way Alexander had looked at me, startled, almost thrown off balance. For a second, I'd glimpsed something beneath the arrogance, confusion, maybe even intrigue.
I shook it off. Men like him weren't worth my time. I had a business to grow, clients to please, and a life to build on my own terms.
Still... I couldn't help but wonder if I'd see him again