Chapter 1
Ava Grace POV
I am running like there is no tomorrow because I waa going to be late for my Job in Raulston PA. I am not even looking where I am going when I hit a brick wall and fall right on my butt. I looked up and the most gorgeous man I have ever seen was staring down at me with hatred in his blue-green eyes.
I bit my lip as I started to get my butt off the ground. I stood up and realized this man was huge. He stood six foot six with jet-black hair with a hint of gray which was slicked back, a chiseled jaw with a five-clock shadow, a Roman-shaped nose, and thin pink lips. He also wore a black suit that cost more than my whole salary.
I noticed coffee dripping off his hands and onto his suit and his black leather shoes. I was about to apologize for running into him when he started screaming at me in Italian.
Oh, before I forget let me introduce myself. My name is Ava Grace Turner. I am five foot six with sandy blonde curly hair hazel eyes, full lips a crooked nose (from being broken), and an oval face, and my skin complexation is whiter than snow.
Before I forget my IQ is high on the spectrum, I wouldn't say I was a genius, but I am not a dummy. I can speak several languages including the one this strange man is yelling at me in which happens to be Italian.
I finally found my voice and cut him off from his tirade.
" I do apologize sir if you like I can pay for the dry cleaning" Where I would get that kind of money is beyond me, but hey I need to offer. It's the right thing to do.
I noticed the man looked at me like I was crazy and replied in his sexy Italian accent "Your f in a-hole. With what you're wearing you couldn't afford to buy my tie let alone my dry cleaning. Get your ugly face out of my sight."
I stood there like a statue, couldn't believe what he had just said to me. I glanced at the window at what I was wearing. A white floral button-down shirt, blue jeans, and blue high tops. I am not rich, and I do buy my clothes second-hand, but these were nice clothes.
I can hear him still muttering to himself in Italian calling me an idiot, an ugly bitch, and words I couldn't repeat since I consider myself a Christian woman.
I finally got mad and yelled "Look, I said I was sorry you don't have to be rude about it. I even offered to take your clothes to the dry cleaners."
He shoved me away as he walked to his Rolls Royce Phantom where he slid into the back and slammed the door leaving me alone on the street.
As the car drove away, I shrugged and rolled my eyes at the departing car. I started running again because I was already twenty minutes late and Ms. Rose would not be happy about it.
