PART 2:

He didn’t look like a kidnapper or an opportunistic corporate spy. He looked exasperated, thoroughly soaked, and oddly rugged in a suit that had seen better days. David tapped lightly on the glass. “You okay in there?” he shouted, his voice barely carrying over the howling wind. Victoria hesitated, her grip on the pepper spray tightening, then lowered the window just 2 inches.

The sharp smell of wet asphalt and pine flooded the luxurious cabin. “I’m perfectly fine.” She lied automatically, her tone icy, practiced, and deeply authoritative. “My security team is en route.” David raised a skeptical eyebrow, water dripping from his dark hair onto the bridge of his nose.

He glanced at the completely dead dashboard, the lack of a glowing radio dial, then back at her. “Right. Well, unless your security team consists of a tow truck that can bend the laws of space and time, you’re going to be waiting a long while. The main highway is backed up for miles. Pop the hood.” “Excuse me?” Victoria bristled. She was a billionaire who controlled boardrooms with a single glance.

She wasn’t used to taking blunt orders from anyone, let alone a dripping wet stranger in the pouring rain. “The hood.” David repeated, his voice patient but carrying a firm authority of its own. “It’s a ’69 E-Type, beautiful car, an absolute classic, but they are notorious for electrical gremlins in the wet. Let me take a quick look.

Unless you prefer freezing to death in an Alexander McQueen dress.” Victoria blanked, genuinely startled. Not only had he correctly identified the specific year and model of her vintage car in the dark, but he had recognized the designer of her dress just from the neckline. Intrigued and undeniably freezing, her curiosity overrode her caution.

She reached down and pulled the heavy latch. David walked to the front of the car, lifted the long, heavy clamshell hood, and pulled a small, heavy-duty, waterproof flashlight from his coat pocket. Victoria watched him through the rain-streaked windshield. He moved with a practiced, confident efficiency, his hands navigating the complex engine bay without hesitation.

After a moment, she couldn’t stand sitting uselessly inside while someone else did the work. She grabbed the large, golf-sized umbrella from the passenger seat, pushed open her heavy door, and stepped out into the biting storm. She walked over and silently positioned the umbrella over him, shielding him and the exposed engine bay from the worst of the deluge.

David glanced up, wiping rain from his eyes, surprised by the gesture. “Thanks. You really didn’t have to come out here. It’s freezing.” “I don’t like being a passive bystander to my own problems.” Victoria said crisply, holding the umbrella steady. “What’s the verdict?” “Distributor cap.” David said immediately, pointing his flashlight to a small, cylindrical component near the engine block.

“Moisture got inside the casing. It’s incredibly common with these old British engines. It’s shorting out the spark, which is why you lost power.” He pulled a clean, dry rag from his back pocket and began carefully disassembling and drying the delicate internal components. “Can you actually fix it here?” she asked, skepticism coloring her tone. “Temporarily.

Enough to get you back to civilization, at least.” He wiped his hands on the rag, a self-deprecating smile touching his lips. “It’s your lucky day, honestly. You managed to break down in front of a mechanic who actually respects and understands vintage machinery.” “Lucky is not the word I would use to describe tonight.

” Victoria muttered, her teeth chattering slightly as a gust of wind hit them. “I’m supposed to be at a dinner I absolutely dread, and now I’m going to walk in looking like a drowned rat.” David chuckled, a deep, rich sound that surprised Victoria and momentarily warmed the freezing air. “Join the club. I’m currently on my way to the most agonizing blind date of my life.

” Victoria looked at him, truly seeing him for the first time. Beneath the rain-plastered hair and the slightly ill-fitting suit, he possessed a rugged, undeniably handsome face. His jawline was sharp, but his eyes were incredibly kind and grounded. “A blind date? Let me guess, she’s awful.

” “I haven’t met her yet, but my sister set it up. Apparently, she’s some high-strung, high-level corporate manager.” David said, carefully reattaching the dried distributor cap and tightening the screws. “Probably spends her weekends analyzing spreadsheets, firing people, and judging everyone’s footwear. I’m a mechanic with a young kid and a struggling business.

We have absolutely zero in common. I’m just bracing myself for 2 hours of polite condescension.” Victoria felt a bizarre, sharp twinge of defensive guilt, even though he had no idea he was talking about her world. “Maybe you’re being far too judgmental.” she countered, her tone defensive. “Maybe this corporate manager is just exhausted.

Maybe she’s surrounded by sycophants all day and just wants a conversation with someone real.” David paused his work, looking up at her thoughtfully, the flashlight illuminating the space between them. “Maybe.” “But why would someone like that want to have dinner with a guy whose truck is held together by duct tape and prayers?” “Because,” Victoria said softly, her icy exterior cracking just a fraction as she met his gaze.

“Sometimes the people with the duct tape are the only ones who actually know how to fix things when they fall apart.” David held her gaze for a long, heavy moment, an undeniable, electric tension passed between them, cutting cleanly through the freezing rain and the noise of the storm.

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