I turned my head ever so slightly, pretending to adjust my bracelet, and sure enough, Omir’s eyes were on me. My stomach did a little flip as our gazes locked. His expression was calm but curious, like he was trying to figure me out. Then he did something I wasn’t expecting—he lifted his hand, subtly motioning toward the bar with a tilt of his head.
“Oh my God,” Sherelle whispered, clutching my arm. “He wants you to go over there!”
I froze, my heart suddenly racing. “Are you sure he’s not just looking in this direction?”
“Lennox, stop overthinking and go. You don’t need a spreadsheet to figure this one out.”
I hesitated, glancing at my wine glass like it might somehow provide an excuse to stay seated. But deep down, I knew Sherelle was right. There was no logical reason for me to go, but something about the way he looked at me made it impossible to resist.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I muttered under my breath, pushing back my chair.
“That’s my girl,” Sherelle said, giving me a playful shove.
As I made my way toward the bar, I became acutely aware of every step, every sound, every flutter of my pulse. My thoughts raced. Why is he interested in me? Did Sherelle setthis up? What am I even going to say? But then I remembered the way he’d looked at me—steady, deliberate, and just a little mischievous—and I felt a flicker of courage.
The bar was a little quieter than the rest of the lounge, tucked into a corner where the lighting was even dimmer. Omir was leaning against the counter, nursing a glass of something amber. He straightened as I approached, his smile easy and welcoming.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low enough that it felt like a secret between us.
“Hi,” I replied, suddenly feeling out of place in my business attire.
“You looked like you needed a reason to step away from the table,” he said, nodding toward Sherelle, who was pretending not to watch us while failing miserably.
I chuckled. “She just loves to play match maker, doesn’t she?”
“Relle is cool. We go way back to high school,” Omir said, his gaze warm and steady. “But I figured you might appreciate a quieter conversation.”
I tilted my head, studying him. “And what makes you think I want to talk to you?”
His smile widened, and there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Call it a hunch. Or maybe I’m just hoping I’m right.”
I couldn’t help but smile back, though I tried to suppress it. “You’re awfully confident.”
“Not confident,” he said, leaning slightly closer. “Just curious.” The way he said it made my skin tingle, like he wasn’t just talking about this moment but something deeper.
“Well, Omir,” I said, my voice firmer now, “curiosity can be dangerous.”
“Only if you’re afraid of what you might find,” he replied, his tone soft but challenging.
I opened my mouth to respond but found myself momentarily speechless. There was something disarming abouthim, something that made me feel both on edge and completely at ease.
“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “what does someone like you do for fun, Lennox?”
The question caught me off guard. “Someone like me?”
He gestured subtly to my blazer and the sharp, no-nonsense look I hadn’t bothered to shed. “Yeah. You’ve got this air about you—focused, driven, independent, and probably a little too hard on yourself. But I bet there’s more to you than that.”
I arched an eyebrow, unsure whether to be offended or impressed. “And you think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”
“Not yet,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly. “But I’d like to.” Before I could respond, the bartender set a fresh glass of wine in front of me, and Omir gave him a nod of thanks. “On me,” he said.
I glanced down at the glass, then back up at him. “Thank you.”
For the first time in a long time, I felt like the control I always prided myself on was slipping, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to grab it back or let it go entirely. As I took a sip of the wine, I felt the weight of his gaze, steady and unrelenting, and I knew—whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be simple.
OMIR
The second she walked in, I noticed her.