Jiselle's POV:

I was on my way to meet one of Harry's friends for a blind date. Apparently, he had recently become single and was easing his way back into the dating world—and coincidentally, he happened to be in New York of all places.

Sara and Harry had arranged the whole thing.

I'd been hesitant to agree at first, but after seeing how effortlessly things had fallen into place for Sara and Lyndsey with Harry and Niall, I figured I'd give it a chance. Worst case scenario, it would make for a good story.

I followed my GPS to the bar's location. When I arrived, I took a steadying breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside. It took a moment to scan the room before I spotted him—the only man sitting alone at the bar.

Dressed in black from head to toe. Confident. Polished.

II felt like I'd stepped into a rom-com.

As I walked closer, something tugged at my memory. I slowed, then stopped altogether, searching my mind for where I'd seen him before. Before I could place it, he turned, spotted me, and gave me a friendly wave with a smile that felt a little too sure of itself.

And then it clicked.

You've got to be kidding me.

Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone and called Sara, holding up one finger toward him before turning my back.

"You are not going to believe this," I whispered. "Harry's friend is the guy who ran into me at work earlier this week."

"You're joking," Sara said. "Is Manhattan really that small?"

"I wish I were," I replied. "Should I just walk out now?"

"Absolutely not," she said firmly. "Give him a chance."

I sighed. "What's his name again?"

"Liam Payne."

Of course it was.

I ended the call, squared my shoulders, and walked over.

"You must be Jiselle," he said, standing immediately.

"That would be me."

He smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you. You look absolutely stunning."

"Thank you," I replied politely.

He pulled out a chair for me, ordered drinks, and apologized for running into me at the Hugo Boss photoshoot earlier that week. Conversation flowed easily—too easily. He asked questions, listened just enough, and spoke about himself with practiced charm.

I told him about my work as a brand manager for Hugo Boss, Chanel, and Gucci. His interest sharpened—not in me, I noticed, but in what I represented.

The longer the night went on, the clearer it became.

He liked being impressive.
He liked being admired.
He liked control.

By the time we left the bar, my decision had already been made.

"Thank you for the drink," I said as we stepped outside.

"I had a really nice time," he replied. "We should do this again."

"I don't think so," I said gently, already turning away.

I'd taken only a few steps when he called my name.

"Jiselle—wait."

He jogged up beside me. "Just give me another chance."

I stopped and faced him. "Liam, I don't think this is going to work."

"I know I might come off a certain way," he said quickly. "But I'm not like that. Let me prove it."

I smirked. "Not a chance, pretty boy."

I walked away before he could respond.

I thought that would be the end of it.

I was wrong.

By the time I reached my apartment, I had three missed calls from an unknown number.

Then a text.

Liam: Made it home safe?

I stared at my phone, irritation blooming.

I hadn't given him my number.

Another text followed.

Liam: Harry said you might be stubborn. I like that.

I scoffed, locking my phone and tossing it onto the couch.

Minutes later, it buzzed again.

Liam: I don't give up easily, Jiselle.

I exhaled slowly, already knowing this wasn't over.

Not even close.