Chapter 3

　　LIANA

　　The cart rattled when one of its wheels hit a crack in the sidewalk, and I winced even though nothing inside broke.

　　Old habit. Everything of value we owned fit into that cart—sheet music wrapped in plastic, Remi's spare sweater, his violin case strapped tight with bungee cords like a promise I was afraid to make.

　　The McDonald's giant yellow M glowed ahead of me, all fluorescent warmth and cheap yummy goodness.

　　I was desperate for some hot food and scale breaking calories. Something solid I could bring back for our dinner, before my shift started.  But first I needed to get in there.

　　I stopped short when I saw him.

　　He stood near the curb, tall and still in a way that made the chaos of Manhattan bend around him instead of collide. Dark suit, sharp lines, no effort wasted. He had a phone plastered to his ear, head cocked a bit to the side.

　　Trustworthy, my mind supplied stupidly.

　　He owned the space. I wouldn't make the mistake to call him safe. Just… solid. Like someone who wouldn't let a cart roll into traffic if he said he'd watch it.

　　I hesitated. People like him didn't exist in my world anymore. Some of the places I had stayed, they would take your shoes as you slept and bind you with your own laces!

　　But... I couldn't take the cart inside. Last time I tried, the staff had ushered me out and I had left without buying anything.

　　So, I took a breath and did the thing I was terrible at. "Excuse me Sir"

　　The extremely tall, well-dressed gent didn't turn, just continued barking orders at some poor person on the other side of his phone.  It gave me the chance to really take him in.

　　Camel long cashmere coat over black tapered trousers and shiny Italian shoes that probably cost more than everything in my cart.

　　I stepped closer, mmm he smelled so good…something woodsy with a deeper note of eastern spices, nutmeg and sandalwood.  I inhaled deeper, filling my lungs with it, soaking up the luxuriant extravagance that is fine expensive perfume.

　　Sharp dresser, elegant and a gorgeous head of thick dark hair. And he smells divine. the voice in my head piped up.

　　Oh yes…he ticked all the boxes and then some. I had found the guardian for my treasures as he clearly was no threat to it.

　　Emboldened with this assessment, I reached out and softly touched his hand to get his attention. I tried again, louder this time. "Excuse me Sir?"

　　The man turned swiftly at the contact, grasping my hand hard and looking completely surprised. Dark grey eyes snapped to me. Oh wow..he was even better looking than I had imagined.

　　And then…Whoa! Jiminy cricket..what was that?

　　My eyes widened as a jolt of electricity ran up my fingers to my arm where we touched as if I had been shocked.

　　I gasped at the harsh clasp of his much bigger hand imprisoning my wrist. I peeked up from my lashes, mouthing a "Hi" and again he simply looked down at both our connected hands as if confused.

　　Sweet baby Jesus, if I had thought the back view was good…This man was drop dead gorgeous.  Silver grey eyes, tan skin with beautiful cheekbones and his mouth, those lips…

　　Shit…no double creamy shit…what was wrong with me…where was my mind going?

　　His reaction startled me. He stiffened. Actually stiffened. Like I'd shocked him.  Maybe it was static??

　　The man looked at me differently now. Not kinder. Just… focused. As if something about that brief contact had cut through his annoyance and left him unsettled.

　　"Speak up girl…I'm on a call here…what do you want?" he snapped at me. "If its change, then I don't keep any"  he stated flatly.

　　His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine but the insult of his words had me flinching. Crass insults…judgement, I should be indifferent to it now but heck it still got to me and I stiffened and glared up at his lofty height.

　　His harsh words landed harder than I expected. Heat crept up my neck. "I'm not—" I shook my head, flustered. "I don't want money."

　　"Then what do you want?" he asked, irritation threading his voice.

　　I realized then that I had clenched my hand that was still engulfed in his. I pulled back instantly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" I stuttered and gulped in air.

　　"I didn't mean to bother you Sir.," I said quickly, mortified. A tremor seemed to pass through him with the formal address but I wasn't finished.. "I wasn't approaching you for charity.  I was just hoping you could watch my cart."

　　He exhaled, ran a hand along his jaw, then finally looked behind me and registered the cart. He stared at it, then his eyes swept over me again and seemed to focus intently on my shoes, worn thin at the soles.

　　I fidgeted under the intense scrutiny and the fingers of my free hand tightened around the cart handle.  "I just needed someone to watch it for two minutes while I order food. They won't let me in with it. I thought—" I gestured vaguely. "You looked like someone who wouldn't let it be taken."

　　After my verbal upchuck I paused, feeling my cheeks heat and looked away. "It's okay, I can find someone else."

　　"No." He snapped, the word came out sharper than necessary. "I assumed," he said, and stopped there.

　　That was almost an apology.

　　"I'll watch it," he added, curt but decisive. "I have a few minutes until my driver gets here. Go." He waved in the direction of the MacDonalds.

　　Relief flooded me so fast my eyes burned. A smile, so wide it hurt, cracked my face "Really??? Thank you so much Sir," I said meaning it more than he could know. "I wont be long…I am so grateful Sir"

　　I gave him another small grin and hurried inside before he could change his mind.