Zoey:
If there’s one thing I didn’t plan for this morning, it was him.
Alexander Knight.
The man who’d watched me fumble an entire tray of wine glasses onto his thousand-dollar suit. The same man whose only response had been a cool, unreadable stare that made me feel like the floor should just swallow me whole.
And now—he’s here. Standing on the NYU stage. Looking like a million dollars and a bad memory.
Of all the guest speakers in New York City, it had to be him.
“Zoey, can you check the sound cables again?” one of the committee members asked, breaking through my internal panic.
“Yeah, sure, on it,” I said, crouching down to adjust the mic wire even though it didn’t really need fixing. Anything to avoid looking at him.
But I still felt it—the weight of his gaze.
He wasn’t even t
