Unbound Read Free

young man who is clearly happy to see her again. He takes her in his arms. She pays no further attention to me.
    I don’t want to feel lost, so I straighten my purse decisively. It’s time to get going. I jolt into motion again, ready to seek directions to the subway—only to stop again a second later, when I catch sight of a man who stands out among the crowd. He’s just standing there casually, with his eyes fixed on the exit. Watching me.
    My heart stops for a moment and then immediately starts thumping again when I see the smile on his lips. He nods at me almost imperceptibly.
    Jonathan Huntington.
    No, it can’t be. I blink, but he’s still there. It’s him, it’s definitely him, even though he looks much more attractive in real life than in the magazine photo.
    He uncrosses his arms, which he had folded across his chest, and his posture shifts. He’s not waiting anymore; he’s ready. Even though he’s not moving, he’s poised to go. He’s looking at me. He’s …been expecting me.
    Oh. My. God.
    My feet seem to move of their own accord. I walk toward him in a kind of trance.

2
    “ Hello, Mr. Huntington.” I’m standing right in front of him and holding out my hand. “I’m Grace Lawson.”
    As I walk toward him, he doesn’t take his eyes off me for a second. Those eyes of his were mesmerizingly blue in the photo. But in real life they look …different somehow. Deep. Shimmering. I stare at him, soaking in every last detail.
    He’s tall, much taller than I thought, and is dressed in black from head to toe: black pants, black shirt, black jacket. Just like me. Only he isn’t wearing a colorful scarf, of course. Ha ha. His hair is black, too, and rakishly long, covering his forehead and reaching to just below his collar. Unlike mine, his skin is tanned, which makes the contrast with his blue eyes even more striking. And he clearly didn’t shave today; there’s a five o’clock shadow on his cheeks.
    I notice all this in the seconds during which my hand is hovering in the air between us—but he doesn’t take it. My gaze shifts to his mouth. There is no longer a smile on his lips and his blank expression suddenly makes me feel uneasy.
    He’s looking at me as if he has no idea what I want from him. I clear my throat and leave my hand outstretched.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you—sir.” He’s an aristocrat, isn’t he? How do you address someone like that? Darnit. I don’t know what to say. “I mean, I really wasn’t expecting you to come and pick me up. But I …I’m looking forward to it. To the internship. Very much, actually. It’s really a …huge …”
    The last words come out in a disjointed stammer. Something isn’t right about this.
    “Jonathan?” I hear a deep voice with a strange accent that I can’t place, coming from right behind me and, when I look up, startled, there’s a man standing there. A Japanese man. He’s not quite as tall as Jonathan Huntington, but he’s tall enough to make me feel like a dwarf next to the two of them. There are two more men behind him, also Japanese, but shorter. They must belong to the same party as the first man. And it’s only now that I notice a blond giant and a somewhat shorter dark-haired man, both in suits, have come up behind Jonathan Huntington, as if rushing to his aid. And they’re all looking at me with the same puzzled expressions. Oh my God. My cheeks are burning as I realize what an incredibly embarrassing mistake I’ve just made. Jonathan Huntington isn’t here to pick up his new intern from Chicago from the airport. He’s been waiting for the Japanese businessman behind me, who, by some unlikely coincidence, arrived at exactly the same time as I did. I’ve just made a complete fool of myself. More than a fool, a total idiot. A complete and utter imbecile.
    For a few excruciating seconds no one says a word while I stand there squirming. I shut my eyes in despair and, almost immediately, I feel a warm hand enclosing