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He'd been called down to Indianapolis to ink a deal on a new clothing line he was backing financially - frankly, he couldn't care less about the designer or his 'urban squalor chic' studio, but with his lawyer working on the Tokyo contract it was either wait another week or fly out and take care of it himself. Unfortunately, Indiana in January wasn't even close to where he wanted to be - the Bahamas were looking quite nice this season. He could use a few weeks on the beach with his pretty young PA.
A little lost in his thoughts, he didn't see the girl on the bridge until they slowed to a near stop on the ice as they crossed. He caught sight of a turtle neck sweater over the collar of an olive drab jacket fitted around a young woman sitting on the edge with her back to them. Not prone to charity, it was something else entirely that begged him to ask the driver to stop at the end of the bridge and pull over. Wrapped in a heavy black duffel over a navy three-piece suit, he was a bit more suited to the weather and his black leather winter boots crunched through the snow as he quickly made his way back over the bridge on foot.
She had better be worth it.
"Miss?" He asked casually as he came within easy arms distance of her; "Might I ask why you're out on such a cold day?" His voice is a soft baritone, and holds a lingering but faded London accent that is indistinguishable to most Americans from every other vaguely European accent.
A little lost in his thoughts, he didn't see the girl on the bridge until they slowed to a near stop on the ice as they crossed. He caught sight of a turtle neck sweater over the collar of an olive drab jacket fitted around a young woman sitting on the edge with her back to them. Not prone to charity, it was something else entirely that begged him to ask the driver to stop at the end of the bridge and pull over. Wrapped in a heavy black duffel over a navy three-piece suit, he was a bit more suited to the weather and his black leather winter boots crunched through the snow as he quickly made his way back over the bridge on foot.
She had better be worth it.
"Miss?" He asked casually as he came within easy arms distance of her; "Might I ask why you're out on such a cold day?" His voice is a soft baritone, and holds a lingering but faded London accent that is indistinguishable to most Americans from every other vaguely European accent.
