Stroke of Luck

He glanced at the woman again, and his heart skipped a beat.

It couldn’t be …

She glanced up, and her eyes widened.

Fuck, that was her.

April. The woman who had broken his heart in college.

He should keep walking. Just pretend he didn’t recognize her.

But before her gaze had darted down to her hands, he’d seen a deep pain in her sapphire eyes. No matter what she’d done to hurt him, he couldn’t ignore it.

He walked toward her, but glanced at the man behind her.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Johan,” Quinn said, offering his hand.

Mr. Johan stepped forward and shook it.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Taylor. Is there something I can do for you?”

“No, I’m fine. But I know Ms. Smith and would like to know if there’s a problem.”

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s a private matter.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

He glanc

ed down at April, who kept her gaze averted.

“April, it’s nice to see you again.”

Reluctantly, she tipped up her head. “Hello, Quinn.”

Her cheeks had blossomed bright red. Of course, she was embarrassed. But her eyes were puffy, and clearly she’d been crying.

Fuck, he shouldn’t care. She’d callously walked away from him without a second thought. He should just walk away now.

He sat down beside her. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Her hand was shaking, and he realized she was holding a piece of paper.

“We’re done, Mr. Johan,” a woman’s voice said.

Quinn glanced up to see two female staff in maid uniforms standing beside Mr. Johan, several pieces of luggage on a cart beside them.

“Mr. Taylor, I hate to break up your conversation, but Ms. Smith needs to come with me.”

Quinn raised his hand. “In a minute.”

He glanced at the piece of paper, and when she realized where he was looking, she crumpled her hand around it.

“April, tell me what’s going on.”

“I…” She glanced over her shoulder at the staff standing behind her, then she bit her lip in the way he used to find so appealing.

She sighed, no doubt knowing that there would be no point in trying to avoid his question.