Fiancé Cheated... So I Took His Rival’s Deal - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Noel was ready to snap, but the words died on his lips when he saw the stranger's face.
"Can I help you, sir?" The round-faced girl blinked up at him, confused.
Noel shook his head. "My mistake. Wrong person."
As the ensemble walked away, Noel stepped outside, lit a cigarette, and let out a bitter chuckle. Carl's smug assurances played in his mind.
Of course. This whole thing was a setup between Carl and Camila. Grandma's always had him wrapped around her finger—wouldn't take much for Camila to buy him off for some cheap stunt.
Can't believe I fell for that con artist's bullshit. Pathetic.
His assistant pulled up just as Camila exited the restaurant, violin case in hand.
Earlier, the manager had pulled her aside after the performance—first to settle payment, then to discuss a regular gig. She'd agreed but insisted on fair market rates. No drinks, no schmoozing—just playing.
To her surprise, they'd offered above standard pay. Her talent spoke for itself.
Now, as rain began pelting the sidewalk, Camila cursed under her breath. Her ride-share request had gone unanswered for ten minutes. She ducked under a bus stop awning, shielding her violin as her hair plastered to her face.
Then tires hissed through the downpour. A white G-Wagon glided to the curb.
"Ms. Bateman." The voice was smooth as aged whiskey. "What a coincidence."
Camila turned. Through the rain-streaked window, gold-rimmed glasses caught the streetlights, obscuring his eyes—but she felt the weight of his gaze.
Her breath hitched. "Mr. Hemming."
Jonathan emerged, all effortless grace in his tailored slacks. The black umbrella he held might as well have been a scepter. Raindrops beaded on the wool of his jacket as those piercing eyes studied her.
Camila suddenly regretted her drowned-rat appearance. "Seems I only run into you when I'm a complete disaster."
"Hardly." His reply came quick, eyes flickering over her rain-slicked collarbone. "Need a ride?"
She checked her dead-end ride-share app. "Wouldn't want to impose—"
"Not an imposition." A beat. "Unless you enjoy pneumonia."
When she hesitated, he added, "I don't bite. Or have a girlfriend, if that's the concern."
Heat flooded her cheeks—how did he—
The car's AC raised goosebumps on her damp skin. Jonathan vanished momentarily, returning with a plush towel. "Hospital statistics say you've got twelve minutes before hypothermia sets in."
She laughed despite herself, accepting it. "That a doctor's order?"
"Researcher, technically." His fingers brushed hers as he adjusted the vents. "Though I do know a thing or two about... delicate instruments." His gaze dropped to her violin.
"Restaurant gig," she offered. "Pays the bills."
"I'd like to hear you play sometime."
When they reached her apartment, he stopped her with a hand on her wrist. "Take this." He pressed the umbrella into her palm. "That's a Guadagnini, isn't it? Would be criminal to let it warp."
Her pulse jumped at his knowledge. "How—"
"Dinner." He cut her off with a smile. "You can thank me properly then."
As she walked away, Jonathan watched until her silhouette dissolved into the storm. Only then did he glance at the business card tucked in his visor—the one with her performance schedule he'd gotten from the restaurant manager an hour earlier.
The engine purred to life. Not quite a coincidence after all.