1- MTF Excuse Me

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     This will be good, Gia thought to herself as she exited the elevator. Tension released from her shoulders and she blew out a breath while walking towards the front door of the office building, giving her new place of employment one final glance. The sleek marble floors and walls combined with accents of dark mahogany wood spoke of wealth and accomplishment. Holding back a grin, she felt thrilled that she had actually been given the coveted internship at Morgan Stanley's Global Headquarters, right here on Broadway. She couldn't believe this was really happening; her first job out of college was with the top investment firm in the nation. It was a dream come true that would have made her grandfather proud. She refused to entertain the other darker emotions that threatened to rise to the surface as her mind pondered the loss of her grandfather, so she pulled out her phone and began texting.

Gia: Evie, I'm done with H.R and ready to go to the restaurant. Where are you?"

     Friday afternoon, and the sidewalks were crowded with people brushing past. Some wearing suits and ties were perhaps hurriedly racing home from work to enjoy their Fourth of July weekend. Others were clearly tourists, with cameras pointed up at the skyscrapers, and aimed for selfies. She smiled to herself. It was completely different from her small town home on the coast of South Carolina, and even from University. It was exactly what she needed: a new start and positive thoughts.

     The Irish pub and restaurant looked like something straight out of Ireland, not that she had ever been, but she'd seen pictures, and it had that warm cozy vibe with the dark woods and low lighting. Being just two buildings away from her office, she had a feeling she would be spending a lot of time there.

     Gia turned to step away from the mâitre d's station, when strong masculine hands circled around her upper arms and stopped her just before she ran into the owner of said hands. Fear welled up inside and she tensed. Regaining her balance, Gia pushed down the fear and forced her eyes upward. Her mouth began forming an apology that froze on her lips the moment she locked eyes with the man before her. Suddenly she was thankful that his hands were holding her up, as her legs became weak beneath her. His dark brown eyes held hers, and though at first they were hard, they quickly softened. There seemed to be mysteries written in the depths of those eyes. Ones she could uncover if she stared long enough. The sound of a woman clearing her throat shook her out of her daze, and she tried to move to the side to let her pass, but the handsome stranger holding her barely let her move.

     She finally came to her senses and was able to speak, though barely. "I...I'm so sorry." She blushed at the man. "Excuse me."

     No words left his mouth, yet they seemed to be lingering just beneath the surface, as if he was holding his thoughts back. When he released her, she stumbled forward onto a bench to wait for Evie. The stranger's gaze followed her as he found a seat at the bar of the restaurant, leaving Gia feeling unsettled.

     Reluctantly she tore her eyes from him, and tried to process the look in his eyes. The situation should have thrown her into a tailspin, bringing up painful thoughts of her past, and yet she somehow felt calmed by his firm grip on her arms and the looks he gave her. She touched her arm, still feeling where he had touched her. Was she truly getting over the ghosts of her past? Was the move to New York just what she needed to move on? Was this the beginning of real freedom?

     Hope bubbled up in her heart and mind, and she glanced at the stranger once more. He was watching her, but quickly averted his gaze, causing her to feel heat rising to her cheeks yet again. The man was good looking; there was no denying it. In fact, good looking was an understatement. Maybe he was a model, there were surely lots of them in the city. And those eyes... they were easy to get lost in. She looked again, and he was now leaning forward, elbows on the bar, rubbing his hands down his face. Was he tired? Troubled?

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