First Encounter: A Charmed Introduction at Casa Loma

The golden hour light spilled through Casa Loma‘s stained-glass windows as I waited near the grand piano. He entered with the quiet confidence of someone accustomed to power—late, but deliberately so.

*Tech entrepreneur. Early 50s. That particular blend of Silicon Valley casual and old-money awareness.*

“Mr. Thorne,” I greeted, extending my hand. “Ava Sinclair. You’re exactly seven minutes late.”

His eyebrow arched. “You timed me?”

“Only the interesting ones,” I replied, watching his stern expression soften into amusement.

The Unplanned Detour: A Missing Bentley Key

Dinner at Scaramouche was progressing beautifully—debating whether Toronto’s food scene could rival Paris’, his surprising passion for 18th-century poetry—when his driver called.

“Sir, the car keys… they’re not where we left them.”

I suppressed a smile as panic flashed across his face. A man who controls billion-dollar deals, undone by misplaced keys.

“Check your left jacket pocket,” I suggested.

His stunned expression when he found them was more satisfying than the Krug Clos d’Ambonnay we’d been drinking.

“How did you—?”

“You patted that pocket twice since we sat down,” I shrugged. “Old habits betray us.”

Midnight Reverie: Confessions by the Harbourfront

Later, walking along the deserted Harbourfront, he broke the comfortable silence.

“You’re not what I expected.”

The lake breeze carried my laugh. “Disappointed?”

“Dangerously the opposite.”

The way he said it made me pause. This wasn’t client banter—it was that rare moment when the professional facade slips, just for a heartbeat.

The Penthouse Interlude: Where Luxury Meets Serendipity

What began as dinner became an impromptu private concert in his Four Seasons penthouse, then a 3 AM philosophical debate about AI ethics. Memorable details:

• The discovery: His surprisingly skilled piano rendition of Rhapsody in Blue

• The twist: My accidental solution to his Shanghai logistics problem

• The rule: Professional boundaries remained, yet the air hummed with unspoken understanding

As dawn approached, we stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows watching Toronto awaken. This is true luxury—**not the opulence, but the fleeting freedom to be wholly oneself.*

The Morning After: A Note on Hermès Stationery

I departed as the first light touched the CN Tower. On the piano:

“A—
Last night was the first time in a decade I forgot to check my phone.
Until Tokyo. —E”

I tucked the heavy cardstock into my clutch. Another perfect night archived in memory’s gallery.