On Monday afternoon, Blaze boarded a flight to the States for a business trip.
Ivanka had asked him to take Blair along for a few days of "fun," but in Blaze's dictionary, along the way simply meant different roads, no crossing paths, no chance of meeting.
Even with Blair's address and contact information in hand, Blaze pretended not to see them at all. He had no intention of entertaining her.
That was, until later that afternoon—just as he wrapped up a meeting with the company delegates and was heading out for dinner—Blair showed up at his hotel.
"Mr. Blaze!"
A bright, clear voice rang out from behind him. Blaze paused mid-step at the elevator.
The click of high heels echoed closer. A slender, fair hand reached out to stop the elevator doors just before they shut, and then Blair slipped in gracefully with a radiant smile.
"Mr. Blaze, you're here!"
