Chapter 1
December 4
Boston MA
Twenty Years Ago
The café was crowded with early morning patrons. The sound of the computer could be heard across the room.
Tap, tap, tap.
The keys called out their words as Storm finally finished the last paragraph, with only two hours to spare. With her work complete, she hit the send button. Finally, she had time to relax. Sipping her now cold coffee, Storm enjoyed her final moments, before heading off to class.
Sitting quietly watching the others, her eyes rested on the man across from her, entranced by his incredible good looks. His bright eyes seemed to sparkle like the green of the ocean in the morning sun. His strong jawline and chiseled facial features were reminiscent of a leading man, from many a romance novel. There was an air of confidence about him. Storm could feel her heart beating fast and was unable to turn away as he stood, making his way across the room, picking up his order, as the Barista called out.
“Number 55.”
Hunter grabbed his morning coffee and pastry from the counter, noticing the beautiful brown-haired woman sitting across the café. Her long locks and big dark eyes, seemed to bore right through him. He chuckled to himself as he noticed how she tried to hide behind her computer, watching him, his every move.
Making his way across the room, Hunter approached the table, confidently sitting down in front of the woman.
“Law or medicine?” He asked, in an almost cocky manner.
Looking up from the computer, the words seemed to roll off the young woman’s tongue with a wispy, almost alarming allure, contradicting his preconceived notion, she was a virgin, innocent to life.
“Neither. Hopeless romantic, Emily Bronte hopeful.”
“At Harvard?” He asked, smirking.
“Preppy, do I really look that uptight?” She smiled.
“Preppy? Really, love story?” Hunter teased.
“Like I said, hopeless romantic. My favorite movie. You are a, Harvardite, am I not correct?”
The young woman spoke softly, seeming to mock him, despite her obvious shyness.
“Harvardite!” Hunter laughed loudly.
“Guilty as charged. But, please, do not hold that against me.”
The young woman smiled, turning a beautiful shade of crimson.
Hunter’s heart went out to her, despite the voice, he had been right, she was an innocent. He found it, refreshing, almost intoxicating, different from the girls he had known.
“Well, Ms. Hopeless Romantic, I am Hunter Caveat, Harvardite, Medical Student, and, completely and totally at a loss.”
“A loss of what?” The young woman finally managed to stammer.
“At how, a budding writer has come to end up in the coffee shop of this campus?”
“I am attending a writers’ workshop, here.” She spoke hesitantly, smiling.
“Really?” He smiled, noticing her big cheeky grin and soft dimples.
“Yes.” She replied, before looking away.
“Are you from around here?”Hunter inquired, genuinely interested.
“No.” She answered, seeming embarrassed.
“I am from a small town in Pennsylvania.”
Hunter smiled, feeling sorry for the girl, who obviously was feeling uncomfortable and out of her element.
“Maybe, I could show you around then. I know a place with an amazing view of the city. Let me take you there, this very afternoon. Meet me here at 3:00.” Hunter announced, very confident in the reply.
Standing, he smiled at the young woman.
“I promise, you will not be sorry. “Three o’clock?” He questioned.
She nodded yes.
Hunter smiled.
“See you then, Hopeless.” He teased.
“The name is Storm.” The young woman spoke, blushing again.
“Storm.” Hunter spoke the words, quietly.
