Marc learned from a very young age that no one valued the passage of time as much as he did, except in job interviews and other formal appointments in which first impressions should be favorably covered. Few took punctuality into account, what interested them more was the absence of it, and sometimes not even that.He had studied human behavior in detail like the best experimental scientist he was n't . In this way, he noticed a particularity that helped him form the most characteristic aspect of his personality. Who hasn't heard of the "elegantly late" excuse? Who had not once uttered that famous proverb that said: "good things are hard to come by"? It had been years since Marc, bearing in mind that lack of punctuality was valued much more than punctuality, appropriated tardiness to define himself. That's how he was known: as the man who was always late for appointments and who was expected because it was worth it. You could even say that he deserved double for the minutes he charged

Or perhaps he had returned from a trip. He sensed her as a cosmopolitan woman, and it would not be difficult for him to imagine her with a camera on her, stopping at every corner of Montmartre, having a coffee in the Trastevere square, or sitting on her lap, completely naked.I was thinking about it when the threads of chance did their thing. Yuri's eyes locked on him. Her eyelids tugged more than usual as she acknowledged him.They looked at each other through the glass without smiling. Marc listened to the wheels of his mind turning and was pleased to imagine that he was liking what he saw. He barely noticed her eyes slide down his jacket and land on the protruding card. After that he saw her exchange a few words with her sister, apologize and leave the room with a serenity that kept him mesmerized. The rippling of her hair in a casual ponytail and the soft scent that filled his senses as she stood before him heightened his interest.She was even prettier up close."You must be Alle

Yuri stopped on the hall carpet, surprised by that light bulb that had just come on. Was that possible?He had never stopped to wonder the reason for his lack of emotional attachment. In part it was because her job didn't allow her to stop for a second, and even less to ask metaphysical questions like the origin of the universe, what was after death, or why the hell she even got bored with herself.But it could be true. Any romantic heart would wither if it received daily showers of reproaches, showers of tears, or even showers of punches. His acting range included from couples who couldn't stand looking at each other's faces, to those who went out together for a few beers. It was a rather depressing scenario and perhaps their constant succession had gradually dampened her illusion of fulfilling the typical fantasy of the average girl: finding the love of her life.Well... Let's say that before that, Yuri had dreamed of being a milk lawyer, completing a wardrobe of shoes and eating wi

He did not hear the sigh of his secretary and the comment of the one who accompanied him, because just as he turned towards the entrance of the meeting room, he intercepted the only male figure that was crossing the corridor in his direction.Yuri remained at the doors of the office, more surprised because it had taken her so little to recognize him than because of her internal reaction. The irritation didn't catch her off guard. She suspected that if she ever ran into him again, he would tell her four things for cheating on her at a vulnerable moment.It was him. The scoundrel who pretended to be the deputy head of the insurance company for reasons yet to be determined, and who didn't interrupt her while she was explaining her pathetic situation. The perfect actor. She wouldn't have found out if Allen hadn't called her to close the deal and insist that she hadn't sent anyone to the firm. She spent the next few days freaking out wondering why the hell she would have done that. Was he

Marc waited for the future divorcees and the lawyer to leave the room to do it himself. It wasn't a polite gesture or a learned rule, but another strategic move in favor of his "wicked goals," as Nick liked to call them. The way in which the parties said goodbye and if the lawyer had sweated the seat were key clues to know what their chances were.Seeing that "the Campbells"“it would be better not to say that in front of Carol Price”would not approach each other and avoid looking at each other even in the face of even a basic courtesy such as "see you tomorrow," Marc imagined that he could destroy to her client's ex”husband without her making any qualms. In fact, he was grateful that Carol was one of those shallow, even unscrupulous women whose only goal in asking for a divorce was to keep everything and bring the gentleman down. It never hurt to have ambitions in common with someone who was going to pay him a substantial amount.As for the lawyer... There was no trace of sweating on