The Gift of You

Chapter One

"Ma'am, you gave us an extra twenty."

Clara Lawrence looked up from putting her wallet back in her purse and smiled at the barista in front of her. The young man held out the crisp twenty but she waved it away. "I know. I want to pay for some of the folks behind me."

The barista's hazel eyes widened, then he peered at her. "Uh, do you know who's behind you?"

"Nope!" Clara said brightly, her smile widening as she picked up her small order of hot chocolate from the counter. "Just trying to pay it forward and spread some good will." A small furrow formed between her brows. "Is this against company policy?"

"No! No, just..." The barista looked over her shoulder and snorted. "Just don't think the guy behind you can't pay for his own drink, is all."

Clara frowned more, wondering how on earth the barista could possibly know this, and finally looked behind her. The inelegance of her jaw dropping was something she'd have to endure because she couldn't think of any other appropriate response. Braxton Roberts, the Earl of Yaleton, was looking right at her with a soft smile. The blue of his eyes sparkled like snow in a sunny morning, and his face was chiseled from his cheeks to his strong jaw with its cleft chin. Up until then, the only time Clara had ever seen Braxton Roberts was on magazine covers in the checkout aisle at the supermarket. Now he was here, directly in front of her, in the flesh.

"Hello," the earl greeted. Clara almost sagged against the bakery display case. His voice was as rich as the coffee being brewed, deep and robust.

"Hi," Clara breathed, then whirled back around to the barista, managing to shut her mouth in the process.

The barista nodded then took out his phone. "Can I get a picture?"

"Yes—wait—!"

Clara didn't wait, quickly leaving the line with a hurried, "Nice to meet you!" in the earl's general direction.

That request for a picture hadn't been for her; and even if it had been, the photo would end up plastered all over the media in a matter of minutes. She didn't want to endure that particular hell, either.

Though Christmas had come and gone, there were still holiday decorations along the streetlamps and buildings as she walked down New York City's streets. Luckily, it hadn't rained or snow in a while, so the sidewalks weren't damp and slick with a morning's frost. She hurried into one of the high rises that made up Lower Manhattan's skyline and rode the elevator up to her floor. Once she reached the sanctuary of her cubicle, Clara released a laughing breath.

Talk about a highlight of her year! She pulled out her phone and texted her best friend from home with the news and snorted when Evie Appleby declared Pics or it didn't happen! in response.

No pics, but he looks just as fine in real life as he does in the magazines! Clara determined.

Jealous, Evie determined. I still would've taken the picture.

Clara didn't regret not doing so. Despite being outgoing and gregarious, she had no interest in experiencing any amount of fame—fifteen minutes or otherwise. Besides, Braxton Roberts must constantly be bombarded with photos and selfie requests, and the least she could do was respect the man's privacy. He'd just come in for a hot beverage and maybe a pastry just as she had. She'd just tuck the brief interaction in her internal "Happy Place Jar" and keep it moving.

An hour later, her desk phone rang with her boss's extension. Curious, Clara answered the call, as it wasn't her immediate supervisor, but rather the chief financial officer of the entire McKensie Lowman Accounting. As a junior business analyst, there were normally several levels between her and him, so this was highly unusual.