3. Carver Troy

"He's a local real estate tycoon," Jorge said. "He's been coming here since he was a kid. It's his favorite spot. He often picks up his order after hours to avoid unwanted attention."

Ava's stomach dropped as she realized her mistake. "I… I didn't know," she managed. "I'm so sorry, Jorge."

Jorge shook his head. "I know you didn't mean any harm, but this is serious, Ava. Mr. Troy values his privacy, and he trusts us to keep it. There aren't many places he can go where he gets that respect. He'll be back tonight, and he'll expect an apology."

Ava nodded as fear tightened around her chest. Facing someone so powerful was terrifying, but she had to make it right. "I'll apologize," she promised. "I'll do whatever it takes."

Jorge nodded as well. "Just be sincere. He's fair. He'll understand."

The hours dragged by as Ava's anxiety grew with each passing minute. The restaurant bustled around her, but she only thought about meeting Carver Troy. 

He was a legend in New York, known for his charm and ruthlessness. 

What would he think of her? A girl living in a hotel room who had stolen his dinner?

Carver Troy entered with his usual air of command, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. 

His presence dimmed the elegant atmosphere of Poncholes. The man moved through the space confidently. His eyes hazel eyes were sharp and discerning. His dark hair was perfectly groomed, and his tailored suit hinted at the power muscles beneath.

As he approached Ava, the rest of the world seemed to fall away. She tried to steady herself, but her hands trembled as she began her apology. "Mr. Troy, I... I didn't know. I'm so sorry. We were already closed, and I hadn't eaten all day. I thought it was leftover. Unclaimed. So I took it to my hotel room. And... And... I ate it."

Carver briefly narrowed his eyes, and then he smiled. "Mistakes happen. Just don't let it happen again, okay? I'm not a fan of hunger."

Ava felt a wave of relief. "Nor am I, sir. Thank you for understanding."

He tilted his head slightly. "You're new here, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir. Just a few weeks."

He smiled, and she noticed his eyes twinkle. "Well, welcome to New York. And don't worry about the meal. Jorge makes it perfectly, but it's not worth losing sleep over."

Carver's smile turned slightly playful. "Did you at least enjoy it?"

Ava blurted out, "Oh yes! It was amazing, nothing like anything I've ever tasted!"

Carver chuckled. "I'm glad to hear that. Perhaps it was meant to be. I've always been a fan of showing people new things."

Ava felt her cheeks heat up again, and she knew she'd never forget this moment. Carver Troy had that effect. His presence was magnetic, his charisma undeniable. But there was more. Something deeper, hidden beneath the charm. She could feel it in the way he looked at her. 

As he turned to leave, she felt a strange sense of loss. She wanted to know more, to explore the enigma that was Carver Troy.

With a final glance, he moved to his usual table, leaving Ava alone at the front. His graciousness and his presence lingered in her thoughts, painting a picture of a man as complex as he was captivating. How had he got into her head this much already?

Later, as Ava scrubbed the last of the silverware, Steven, the ever-chirpy waiter, leaned in. "Ava, did you notice how Mr. Troy kept watching you all night?"

Ava's cheeks burned at the comment. "Don't be ridiculous, Steven. A man like him wouldn't notice someone like me."

"Oh, but I think he has," Steven said with a grin. Ava's heart skipped a beat as she dismissed it with a wave, but Steven continued. "He stayed the entire dinner service, Ava. That's never happened before. Must be your charm."

Ava rolled her eyes and returned to her work.

As Ava prepared to leave, she noticed Carver Troy watching her from across the room. His eyes held an intensity that made her heart flutter. "Ava," he called out. "Join me for a moment?"

She approached his table, holding a tray to clear the plates. 

Carver's presence was overpowering.

 As she reached to gather the dishes, he stopped her by gripping her wrist. "That's not why I called you over. Sit down. Please."

Ava complied, taking the seat across from him. The command in his words was subtle but undeniable.

"So, Ava," he began. "Tell me about yourself."

Ava stammered, "I'm just... working here, trying to get back on my feet."

Carver's eyes flicked to the bag she carried. "And what do you have there? You're not stealing another meal, are you?" He was teasing her, but his eyes were sharp. He was judging her by the way she reacted here.

Ava flushed. "No, sir. My employee meal. Just a cheeseburger and fries."

Carver waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense. Jorge, prepare the same meal I'm having for Ava to take home."

Jorge, standing nearby, nodded as he disappeared into the kitchen. "Coming right up. Good thing the chefs made extra tonight, sir."

Ava was left speechless.

Carver leaned in. "You're staying close by? With family or friends?"

Ava hesitated. "No, actually, I'm at the hotel down the block until I… get back on my feet."

Carver nodded. "I hope you find your feet soon, Ava."

When the meal was ready, Carver took it from Jorge and handed it to Ava, his fingers brushing hers. The touch lingered, making her visibly shiver.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Carver's smile was enigmatic. "You're welcome, Ava."

Ava left the restaurant. She was reeling. The night had taken an unexpected turn, and she felt a strange connection to Carver Troy that excited and terrified her. As she walked back to her hotel, she couldn't help but smile. It felt good to be noticed by her peers, but it was a whole other thing to be seen by someone as powerful as Carver Troy. 

But as she approached the front desk of the old hotel where she had been staying, something in the owner's expression made her pause. 

His eyes were wide as he smiled.

"Ava, dear," he said. "There's been a change regarding your room."

Ava's as her heart dropped. Panic washed over her as she began to tremble. Was she kicked out? Had something gone wrong? The uncertainty threatened to crush her.

"What do you mean?" she stammered. "What's wrong with my room?"