âA woman stood in the back corner of the room, helping herself to coffee from the fancy coffee machine Brinker kept for his own personal use.
Her body was mostly hidden by one of the horrible potted plants that Brinkerâs wife insisted gave his office âhomey character.â
And then she stepped into plain view.
He couldnât help it; he checked her out. Everything about the woman demanded a second look, the legs in particular.
Luc had never really considered himself a legs-man, being more of an âequal opportunityâ guy when it came to female body parts. (Although, if his mother ever asked, heâd swear up and down that he only ever noticed personality. Maybe the eyes.)
But the legs on this one were damn near perfect. For that matter, the high breasts and slim waist also earned high marks.
Her subdued black skirt and white blouse should have been boring, but theyâd obviously been perfectly tailored to fit her trim frame perfectly.
The black high heels were icing on the already perfect cake.
Then he looked at her face, and for a second, Luc felt just a little bit dazed.
If anything, her features were even more perfect than the body. Her eyes were maybe just slightly too large for her otherwise petite features, but there was no doubt about it, the woman was stunning.
And yet, there was something else there too, just beyond the jolt of sexual awareness.
Luc might not have his brother Vincentâs photographic memory, but he was pretty damn good with faces. And he was pretty sure he knew this one. His brain scrambled to place her, but he kept coming up empty.
Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly on Luc, and his narrowed right back. He definitely knew her from somewhere.
She gave him a slow, knowing smile. âFifth and Fortieth, three years ago.â
He shook his head to indicate he didnât follow.
âYouâre trying to figure out how you know me. Three years ago, you gave my news van a parking ticket, and we exchangedâ¦words. Thatâs where you know me from. Iâm Ava Sims.â