Midnight Encounter at the Rooftop Bar

The city lights sparkled below like a million scattered diamonds as Sarah stepped onto the rooftop terrace. The warm summer breeze carried the faint sound of jazz from somewhere below, mixing with the soft murmur of conversations around her.

She hadn't planned on coming here tonight. A last-minute change of plans, a cancelled dinner date, and an irresistible urge to not spend another evening alone in her apartment had led her to this exclusive bar atop the old Belmont Hotel.

The bartender, a silver-haired man with knowing eyes, slid a perfectly crafted martini across the polished marble counter. "Compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar," he said with a subtle nod.

Sarah's gaze followed his gesture to find a pair of dark eyes already watching her. The stranger raised his glass in a silent toast, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

She should have looked away. Should have politely declined the drink and returned to her solitary contemplation of the skyline. But something about the way he looked at her—not with predatory intent, but with genuine curiosity—made her pulse quicken.

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