Roseanne felt a stir of emotion she couldn't quite name, a longing for something more, a desire she had never experienced before.

Meanwhile, Leda had just dropped them off and was heading to the pub when, out of nowhere, her peaceful drive was interrupted by a sudden crash. A Maserati slammed into the back of her car right as she was parking outside the pub.

Fuming, Leda stormed out of her car and confronted the driver, "Can't you drive? What, is your foot glued to the accelerator? You're speeding in a parking lot, not even watching where you're going? My car wasn't even fully parked yet, are you blind? How could you just ram into me like that?"

The driver's door of the Maserati swung open and out stepped a man with a grin, "Ah, look who it is. No big deal, no need for such a temper."

York, all smiles, approached Leda.

"Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Big Shot himself," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

York looked at the back of the Ferrari, winced at the damage, but still managed to joke, "Just a minor hiccup, really. I was going a tad fast, wasn't paying enough attention, and voilà, our cars got a bit too friendly, huh?"

"Cozy? With you?" Leda rolled her eyes. "Let's get one thing straight."

He coughed. "Alright, our cars had a little moment. Happy now?"

Leda snorted.

have the

fault! And now I'm stuck without a

Ms. Reynolds, as if you're short

interest in the argument, Leda tossed him her car keys, "I've got better things to do. You deal with

was about to enter the pub, a woman suddenly charged at York, slapping him

sound was crisp and echoed in the

was stunned. Was

seemed taken aback but quickly regained his composure, touching his cheek where he'd been slapped, and smiled. "Ms. Alexia, you

but scum!" The woman spat out her words then burst into tears, throwing

we

in a sleek white business suit that made her look both professional

there was

Watching her oscillate between

crying and laughing, fluctuating

between tenderness and ess

words, and

in her gaze toward

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