FINDING ME AT 24

Chapter Two - The Man at the Café

Maya stared at the message on her phone.

Unknown: I told you not to trust everyone.

For several seconds, she didn't move.

The café continued around her as though nothing had happened. Cups clinked against saucers. A waitress squeezed between tables with a tray balanced carefully in one hand. Somewhere near the window, someone laughed loudly enough to turn a few heads.

Normal.

Everything looked painfully normal.

Maya read the message again.

Then once more.

Her grip tightened around her phone.

Who was this person?

And how did they know where she was?

A cold feeling settled in her stomach.

She slowly lifted her eyes and looked around the café.

No one seemed interested in her.

A couple sat in the corner, leaning toward each other in quiet conversation. A man worked on his laptop near the window. Two women stood at the counter, arguing playfully about what to order.

Still, Maya couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling crawling beneath her skin.

Maybe it was a prank.

Maybe someone had gotten her number by mistake.

Or maybe-

"Maya?"

She looked up quickly.

Jerry stood beside the table, watching her with concern.

"You okay?"

Maya turned her phone over and placed it face down on the table.

"Yeah."

Jerry didn't look convinced.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

She managed a small laugh.

"I'm just tired."

That wasn't entirely a lie.

Jerry pulled out the chair across from her and sat down.

"You've been driving for six hours. You're allowed to be tired."

Maya leaned back.

When he put it that way, the exhaustion suddenly felt heavier.

"I still can't believe I'm actually here," she said.

"In New York?"

She nodded.

"Yes."

Jerry smiled.

"You'll get used to it."

Maya looked toward the café window, where the city rushed past in flashes of headlights and moving bodies.

"I don't know about that."

"You will."

"You sound very confident."

Jerry took a sip of water.

"I know you."

Maya glanced at him.

A smile tugged at her lips.

"You haven't changed."

"Neither have you."

"That isn't necessarily a compliment."

"It wasn't."

She laughed.

And just like that, some of the tension in her shoulders disappeared.

Jerry had been one of the few familiar things she'd found in this enormous city.

They had known each other since college. Back then, they'd spent more time together than either of them, probably realized-late-night study sessions, terrible cafeteria food, arguments about assignments, and endless complaints about lecturers who seemed personally determined to ruin their lives

After graduation, life had taken them in different directions.

Then, somehow, New York had brought them back into each other's lives.

Maya still thought that was strange.

But tonight, sitting across from someone who already knew her, she was grateful for the coincidence.

"So," Jerry said, setting his glass down, "how does it feel knowing you start work on Monday?"

Maya groaned.

"Please don't remind me."

His smile widened.

"You're nervous."

"A little."

Jerry gave her a look.

Maya sighed.

"Fine. Very nervous."

"I knew it."

"This is my first real job in a completely new city. Of course I'm nervous."

"You're going to be fine."

"I hope you're right."

"I usually am."

Maya raised an eyebrow.

"That confidence is becoming annoying."

Jerry laughed.

She smiled despite herself.

Then her expression softened.

"I really hope I made the right decision."

Something in Jerry's face changed.

Only slightly.

But Maya noticed.

"You did," he said.

She looked at him.

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Jerry was quiet for a moment.

"Because staying would have made you miserable."

Maya lowered her eyes.

He was right.

That was the part she hadn't known how to explain to her mother.

Or even to herself.

She hadn't left home because she hated her life. She loved her parents. She loved the familiarity of home.

But somewhere along the way, her life had started to feel like a road someone else had chosen for her.

Safe.

Predictable.

Already planned.

New York terrified her.

But at least the fear belonged to her.

"I guess we'll see," she murmured.

---

A few minutes later, Jerry pushed his chair back.

"I'll be right back."

Maya looked up.

"Where are you going?"

"To pay."

"I can pay for my own food."

Jerry shook his head.

"Absolutely not."

"Jerry-"

"Consider it a welcome-to-New-York gift."

She narrowed her eyes.

"You're impossible."

"And yet, here you are."

Maya smiled.

"Fine. But next time, I'm paying."

"We'll discuss that later."

Before she could argue again, Jerry walked toward the counter.

Maya leaned back in her chair and exhaled.

For the first time since arriving in the city, she allowed herself to relax.

Maybe everything would be okay.

Her handbag slipped from the back of her chair.

She didn't notice.

It landed quietly on the floor beside her.

A moment later, someone walking past stopped.

Maya was distracted by her phone.

The man looked down at the bag, then toward her.

"Excuse me."

She didn't hear him.

He tried again.

"Excuse me."

Maya looked up.

And froze.

The man was holding her handbag.

Her eyes widened.

"Hey!"

He blinked.

Maya stood so quickly that her chair scraped against the floor.

"What are you doing with my bag?"

The man looked down at the handbag.

Then back at her.

"It fell."

"I know it fell."

"I was trying to-"

"Why were you touching it?"

For a second, he simply stared at her.

"Because it was on the floor."

Maya held out her hand.

"Give it to me."

His eyebrows rose slightly.

But he handed it over.

She grabbed the bag and pulled it against her chest.

They stood there in silence.

Maya was suddenly aware of how ridiculous the situation looked.

The man had been walking past.

Her bag had fallen.

He'd picked it up.

That was it.

Still, the messages on her phone had left her on edge.

"I thought you were trying to steal it," she said.

The man's expression changed.

"Steal it?"

Maya lifted her chin.

"Yes."

For a moment, he looked as though he genuinely didn't know what to say.

Then he laughed.

Quietly.

Maya frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're laughing."

"I am."

"Why?"

He shook his head, clearly amused.

"Because you're serious."

"I am serious."

"I can see that."

Maya tightened her grip on the bag.

The man glanced at it.

Then at her.

"Your bag is safe."

She didn't respond.

"And, for the record," he added, "so are you."

Before Maya could think of something to say, he turned and walked toward the exit.

She watched him go.

There was something oddly familiar about him.

Not his face.

She was sure she'd never seen him before.

Maybe it was his voice.

Or the way he spoke with such effortless confidence.

Whatever it was, Maya couldn't explain it.

She watched him disappear through the café door.

"Ready?"

Jerry's voice pulled her back.

Maya turned around.

He was standing beside the table.

"Yeah."

Jerry glanced toward the door.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

His eyes moved from her face to the handbag clutched against her chest.

Then back again.

"Who was that?"

Maya sighed.

"I don't know."

Jerry smiled.

"Already making friends?"

"I accused him of trying to steal my purse."

Jerry stopped.

For half a second, he said nothing.

"You did what?"

Maya closed her eyes.

"Please forget I said anything."

"I leave you alone for five minutes."

"Jerry."

His laugh filled the space between them.

"Okay, okay. I'm done."

"You're not done."

"No. Probably not."

Maya shook her head and picked up her things.

"Let's just go."

Neither of them noticed the man disappearing down the street.

---

By the time they reached Jerry's apartment, Maya could barely keep her eyes open.

She dropped her handbag onto the couch and slipped off her shoes.

"I can't feel my legs."

Jerry laughed.

"That happens when you spend six hours in a car."

"I thought New York was supposed to be closer."

Jerry stared at her.

"Closer to what?"

Maya opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

"That's not important."

"Exactly."

She smiled tiredly.

Jerry walked toward the kitchen.

"You need to sleep."

"I'll be fine."

Maya yawned before she could finish the sentence.

Jerry turned slowly and raised an eyebrow.

She pointed at him.

"Don't."

"Guest room."

"You're sure?"

"Maya."

She looked at him.

"You're my friend. Go sleep."

Something about the simplicity of those words warmed her.

After everything that had happened that day, she hadn't realized how badly she needed to hear them.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Jerry smiled.

"Get some rest."

Maya nodded and headed down the hallway.

At the guest room door, she paused.

"Jerry?"

"Yeah?"

"Seriously. Thank you."

His expression softened.

"Anytime."

She closed the door behind her.

Within minutes, sleep found her.

---

Sunlight slipped through the curtains the next morning.

Maya opened her eyes slowly.

For one confusing second, she didn't recognize the room.

Then everything came back.

New York.

Jerry's apartment.

Her new job.

Her new life.

She sat up, suddenly wide awake.

Today was apartment hunting.

She smiled.

The fear was still there.

But excitement had found its place beside it.

Maybe that was what starting over was supposed to feel like.

---

Jerry was already awake when Maya entered the living room.

"Morning."

"Morning."

"How did you sleep?"

"Like someone who drove six hours and accused a stranger of stealing her bag."

Jerry nearly choked on his coffee.

Maya pointed at him.

"I knew you weren't done."

He grinned.

"Never."

She shook her head.

"So. Apartment hunting?"

Jerry stood up.

"Apartment hunting."

Maya smiled.

"Let's do this."

---

The first apartment was beautiful.

Maya hated it immediately.

Not because there was anything wrong with it.

Quite the opposite.

The apartment had polished floors, high ceilings, and windows that overlooked part of the city.

Then Jerry told her the price.

"No."

"You haven't even seen the bedroom."

"I don't need to."

"You're sure?"

"Jerry."

He laughed.

"Fine. Next one."

The second apartment was cheaper.

Unfortunately, it was also tiny.

Maya stood in the middle of the living room and looked around.

Then she looked at Jerry.

He was already shaking his head.

"Don't say it."

"What?"

"I know that look."

"What look?"

"The one you're making right now."

Maya crossed her arms.

"I need space."

"You need a budget."

She stared at him.

"Whose side are you on?"

"Your landlord's."

"Jerry!"

He laughed all the way back to the car.

By the time they reached the third apartment, Maya was exhausted.

She wasn't expecting much.

Then the door opened.

And she stopped.

The apartment wasn't enormous.

It wasn't luxurious.

But sunlight spilled through the large windows, warming the wooden floor.

There was a small kitchen.

A comfortable bedroom.

Enough space to breathe.

Maya walked toward the window.

Below her, the city stretched in every direction.

Cars moved through the streets.

People hurried along the sidewalks.

Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed.

New York was loud.

Restless.

Alive.

Maya rested her hand against the window.

For the first time since arriving, she could picture herself here.

Not visiting.

Not passing through.

Living.

"I like it," she said.

Jerry came to stand beside her.

"You love it."

She smiled.

"I do."

"Then?"

Maya turned toward the agent.

"I'll take it."

Jerry grinned.

"Welcome home."

The words caught her off guard.

Home.

She looked around the apartment again.

It didn't feel like home yet.

But maybe it could.

"Yeah," she said quietly.

Then she smiled.

"Welcome home."

---

The following morning, Maya stood in front of her bedroom mirror.

She adjusted the sleeve of her blouse.

Then smoothed the front of her skirt.

She stepped back.

Professional.

Elegant.

At least, that was what she was hoping for.

Her stomach, however, had other ideas.

It was filled with butterflies.

Maya took a deep breath.

"It's just a job."

She paused.

No.

It wasn't just a job.

It was the reason she'd come here.

The beginning of something she'd chosen for herself.

She picked up her handbag.

"You've got this."

Then she headed for the door.

---

Harrison & Cole stood tall against the morning sky.

Maya stopped outside the building and looked up.

The company had always seemed impressive online.

Standing in front of it was something else entirely.

Her heart began beating faster.

She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and walked inside.

The lobby was bright and elegant.

People moved through it with purpose, dressed in expensive suits and talking into phones as though every second mattered.

Maya suddenly became very aware of herself.

Don't panic.

Don't trip.

Don't embarrass yourself.

The receptionist looked up.

"Good morning."

Maya smiled.

"Good morning. My name is Maya. I'm the new secretary."

The receptionist checked something on her computer.

Then smiled.

"Yes. Mr. Harrison is expecting you."

Maya's stomach tightened.

"Thank you."

She followed the receptionist's directions toward the executive offices.

By the time she reached the door, her palms were damp.

She wiped them discreetly against her skirt.

Then knocked.

"Come in."

Maya opened the door.

She stepped inside.

And stopped.

Her breath caught.

The man standing behind the desk looked up.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then recognition crossed his face.

Slowly.

Followed by amusement.

Maya felt her soul leave her body.

No.

No, no, no.

"You."

The word slipped out before she could stop it.

The man leaned back slightly.

"You."

Maya looked around the office.

Then back at him.

Her eyes landed on the nameplate sitting on his desk.

ALEXANDER HARRISON

CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER

Her stomach dropped.

She looked back at him.

"You're the CEO?"

Alexander raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

Of course he was.

Of course the stranger she'd accused of stealing her handbag had turned out to be the most important person in the building.

Why would her first week in New York be normal?

"You're my new secretary," Alexander said.

It wasn't a question.

Maya swallowed.

"Yes."

Silence filled the office.

Maya wished desperately for something to interrupt it.

A fire alarm.

An earthquake.

A power outage.

Anything.

Instead, Alexander simply watched her.

She cleared her throat.

"About yesterday..."

His eyebrow lifted slightly.

"Yes?"

"I owe you an apology."

"You do."

Maya looked down.

"I genuinely thought you were trying to steal my bag."

"I gathered that."

She glanced up.

"I didn't know who you were."

"Would it have made a difference?"

Maya hesitated.

Then shook her head.

"No."

For the first time, Alexander's expression softened.

Just slightly.

"Good answer."

Maya released a nervous breath.

"I really am sorry."

He nodded once.

"Apology accepted."

"Thank you."

Alexander picked up a file from his desk.

"Relax, Maya."

She looked at him.

"It's your first day."

Easy for him to say.

She nodded.

"Yes, sir."

She turned toward the door.

"Maya."

She stopped.

Slowly, she looked back.

Alexander held her gaze.

"Try to keep your accusations to a minimum while you're working here."

Heat rushed to her face.

"I'll do my best."

A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Maya escaped the office before he could say anything else.

The door closed behind her.

She stood in the hallway.

Then covered her face with both hands.

"Oh my God."

Of all the people in New York.

Of all the cafés.

Of all the handbags , she could have dropped-

It had to be her boss.

Inside the office, Alexander looked toward the closed door.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then, despite himself, he smiled.