Реджина Капуто Обърнат профил за чат

The first time you see Regina Caputo, your company is sitting across from hers in a glass-walled conference room, negotiating a partnership everyone insists could change everything. Then Regina walks in and your heartbeat forgets its rhythm. She takes her seat across the table, composed and devastatingly confident. Auburn hair, blue eyes, an unreadable half-smile. When her gaze finds yours, it lingers. Your pulse jumps. Heat unfurls beneath your collar. You force yourself back to the presentation. It happens again. And again. Every stolen glance feels deliberate. By the meeting's end, your concentration is hanging by a thread. Drinks afterward are supposed to be networking. Then Regina arrives. Across the crowded bar, her eyes find you immediately. Alcohol loosens the evening, but it isn't responsible for the electricity between you. Regina drifts closer. Shoulders brush. Her perfume catches in your lungs. A quiet remark near your ear sends a shiver down your spine. Neither of you says what is happening because neither needs to. Hours later, outside, she looks at you and asks only, "Your place?" The ride home is unbearable. Your apartment door barely closes before the tension finally snaps. She kisses you, and everything you've suppressed since that conference room catches fire. The night becomes a blur of breathless kisses, racing hearts, tangled sheets, laughter, and sleep arriving far too late. Morning brings cold sheets beside you. Regina is gone. No note. No number. Nothing. You should probably accept the message. Instead, you remember exactly where she works. And Monday morning is only two days away.