Chapter 1 - The Woman Marcus Wasn’t Supposed to Find
At 10:09 every night, David Prescott asked the same question.
“Marcus, what time is it?”
And every night, Marcus answered him even though both men could see the clock mounted on the far wall of David’s penthouse office.
“10:09.”
David barely looked up from the financial report glowing on his tablet.
“Here we go. Bring someone.”
Marcus stood near the window with both hands in the pockets of his charcoal suit.
He had worked for David Prescott for nearly nine years.
He had handled hostile board meetings, international acquisitions, security problems, tabloid scandals, drunk investors, and one memorable Christmas party involving a senator, a fountain, and six bottles of champagne.
But the assignment Marcus hated most was the simplest.
Finding David company.
“Same instructions?” Marcus asked.
David turned a page on the screen.
“Different woman. Dinner. No promises. Morning exit.”
Marcus sighed.
“Healthy.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know. That’s what makes it annoying.”
David Prescott was thirty-four years old and worth more money than most people could understand.
His company, Prescott Global, owned logistics networks, technology firms, commercial properties, and enough stock in enough companies that financial reporters routinely described him as one of the most influential businessmen in America.
He had a penthouse overlooking Manhattan.
A house in the Hamptons.
A place in Aspen that he rarely visited.
A private jet that he used like a taxi.
And absolutely no intention of falling in love again.
Marcus knew why.
“You know,” Marcus said, “one bad woman doesn’t mean they’re all bad.”
David’s eyes remained fixed on the tablet.
“I didn’t say they were.”
“What did you say?”
David finally looked up.
“I said none of them get the chance to matter.”
Marcus studied him for a moment.
There were some subjects even longtime employees learned not to push.
Victoria Lane was one of them.
Years earlier, before David became suspicious of anything resembling affection, Victoria had been the woman he planned to marry.
David had given her access to his home, his family, his private thoughts, and eventually his future.
Then he discovered she had been lying to him for nearly a year.
The affair had hurt.
The financial betrayal had been worse.
But the thing David never admitted was what had broken him most deeply.
She had convinced him that every affectionate word she said had been sincere.
Afterward, David made himself a promise.
No one would ever get close enough to fool him again.
Dinner was fine.
Attraction was fine.
Company was fine.
But mornings?
Mornings implied possibility.
Possibility became attachment.
Attachment became leverage.
So everyone left.
Always.
Marcus reached the doorway.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“You ever think maybe you could just eat dinner alone?”
David looked genuinely offended.
“What kind of depressing suggestion is that?”
Marcus smiled faintly.
“The self-awareness continues to amaze me.”
Then he left.
Across the city, Maya Carter was sitting on a bench outside St. Andrew’s Medical Center trying not to cry.
She had already cried twice that day.
Once in the hospital restroom.
Once in the parking garage.
She refused to do it again.
Not because she wasn’t terrified.
Because tears did absolutely nothing to change numbers.
And right now her life had become a collection of numbers.
$14,700 in savings.
$9,200 available on credit cards.
$4,000 she might borrow from her aunt.
$80,000 needed for the surgery her mother could not wait much longer to receive.
Maya stared at the estimate on her phone until the numbers blurred.
Her mother, Elena Carter, had raised Maya alone after Maya’s father disappeared when she was barely old enough to remember him.
Elena had worked two jobs for most of Maya’s childhood.
She had cleaned offices at night and handled bookkeeping for a small construction company during the day.
She had skipped vacations.
Skipped new clothes.
Skipped anything that might cost money.
When Maya won a scholarship to college, Elena had framed the acceptance letter.
When Maya graduated, Elena cried harder than Maya did.
Now Elena needed surgery.
And Maya was discovering how useless determination could feel when the problem had a price tag.
“Are you waiting for someone?”
Maya looked up sharply.
A man in a dark suit stood several feet away.
He looked professional.
Which, somehow, made the situation more suspicious.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Maya waited.
The man added, “I thought you were following me.”
She stared at him.
He hesitated.
“I might be.”
Maya blinked.
“Well, that’s not creepy at all.”
For the first time, Marcus smiled.
“You’re Maya Carter?”
“That depends on whether you’re serving court papers.”
“I’m not.”
“Then yes.”
“My employer would like your company tonight.”
Maya stared at him.
“Oh, wow.”
Marcus’s expression remained polite.
She tilted her head.
“That sounded less terrible in your head, didn’t it?”
“Considerably.”
“Who is your employer?”
“David Prescott.”
Maya knew the name.
Everyone did.
She glanced automatically toward the hospital behind her, then back at Marcus.
“What exactly does David Prescott want?”
“Your company.”
“For what?”
Marcus paused.
Maya noticed instantly.
“Yeah, that pause wasn’t reassuring.”
“I don’t know exactly what he’ll want.”
“Fantastic.”
Marcus reached into his coat and handed her a card.
There was an address.
A time.
And a number.
Maya looked at it.
Then looked again.
$80,000.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Marcus watched the reaction cross her face.
Shock.
Suspicion.
Embarrassment.
Hope.
Then anger at herself for feeling hope.
“Of course,” Maya whispered. “My life couldn’t need, like, eight hundred dollars.”
“You don’t have to go.”
She looked up.
“Why me?”
Marcus seemed to consider whether honesty would help.
“I saw you earlier at the hospital café.”
“That sounds even creepier.”
“You returned a wallet someone dropped.”
Maya frowned.
“What?”
“It had several hundred dollars in it. You could have kept it.”
“So?”
“So my employer prefers people who don’t create complications.”
“That is an incredibly strange hiring criterion for mysterious dinner companions.”
“I didn’t say it was normal.”
Maya stared at the card.
“Is this legal?”
“Yes.”
“Safe?”
“Yes.”
“You’re very quick with that answer.”
“Because it is.”
Maya’s fingers tightened around the card.
“If I say yes, can I still say no later?”
Marcus answered immediately.
“Yes.”
She studied his face.
“That sounded suspiciously easy.”
“That’s because it is.”
Maya looked toward the hospital windows.
Somewhere above them, her mother was asleep.
Probably pretending she wasn’t scared.
Maya thought of the surgeon explaining timelines.
Thought of the phone calls she had made to insurance representatives.
Thought of banks.
Loans.
Declined applications.
She hated that desperation could make bad ideas look reasonable.
“Well,” she murmured, “this is either brave or unbelievably stupid.”
“Probably both.”
Maya looked at Marcus.
“One condition.”
“Name it.”
“If I feel uncomfortable, I leave immediately.”
“Fine.”
“No argument.”
“No argument.”
“No pressure.”
“None.”
Marcus nodded.
“I’ll send the car.”
Later that night, David stood in the center of his penthouse living room, looking out over the city while Marcus called.
“Well?” David asked.
“She said yes.”
“Good.”
“She’s nervous.”
“They usually are.”
Marcus was silent.
David noticed.
“What?”
“She’s different.”
David almost laughed.
“You say that every six months.”
“No. I say you should meet different people every six months.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“You’ll see.”
David ended the call.
Forty minutes later, Maya stepped out of a black car wearing clothes she already owned because she refused to buy a dress for a situation she still wasn’t sure she understood.
A beige coat.
Champagne-colored blouse.
Blue jeans.
Her mother’s small necklace.
And a black suitcase.
Marcus looked at it.
“What’s that?”
“My emergency exit strategy.”
“It has wheels.”
“So do good exit strategies.”
Marcus opened the door.
“You can still go home.”
Maya looked toward the building.
“And then what?”
Neither of them needed to say it.
The surgery would still cost eighty thousand dollars.
Maya exhaled slowly.
“Exactly.”
The elevator opened directly into David’s penthouse.
Maya stepped inside.
Then stopped.
Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a sunset burning gold behind the Manhattan skyline.
The living room alone seemed larger than her entire apartment.
“Oh, well,” Maya said softly. “That’s excessive.”
Marcus almost smiled.
Maya looked around again.
“Nice. Excessive, but still.”
“Keep walking.”
“Does he live here alone?”
“Yes.”
She stared at the cavernous space.
“That’s not lonely. That’s suspicious.”
“Maya.”
“I’m walking.”
Marcus stopped before the living room.
“You can still leave. I’ll tell him you declined.”
“That’s a much prettier word.”
Then Maya saw David.
He stood near the windows.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Black suit.
Open white shirt.
He looked exactly like magazine photographs and somehow less approachable in person.
His gaze moved toward the suitcase.
Then to Maya.
“You’re late.”
Maya stared at him.
“Hello to you too.”
David’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
Marcus suddenly looked interested.
David studied her.
“You’re not what I expected.”
“Good. I wasn’t trying.”
He noticed the tension in her shoulders.
“Why are you nervous?”
Maya laughed once.
“Because your assistant picked me up for a mysterious billionaire. Apparently that’s supposed to be relaxing.”
David glanced at Marcus.
Marcus shrugged.
“Do you want a drink?” David asked.
“Is it poisoned?”
David stared at her.
“What?”
Maya closed her eyes.
“Sorry. Nervous joke. Water.”
“Perfect.”
He poured it himself.
That surprised her.
Then David asked the question that changed the atmosphere.
“Why did you come?”
Maya took the glass.
“Your assistant asked.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I figured.”
For the first time all evening, Maya stopped joking.
“My mother needs surgery.”
David watched her.
“And?”
“I need money.”
“How much?”
“Eighty thousand.”
Maya gave a tired smile.
“Yeah, I know. To you, that’s probably lunch.”
“I don’t spend eighty thousand dollars on lunch.”
“Usually?”
David almost smiled.
Then Maya put the water down.
“Look, I know what this probably sounds like.”
“Do you?”
“That I’m desperate.”
She held his gaze.
“I am.”
David said nothing.
“But I’m not asking you to pity me.”
Maya reached for her suitcase.
David’s expression changed.
“Wait.”
She looked back.
“I didn’t ask you to leave.”
“You also haven’t told me why I’m here.”
David hesitated.
Maya noticed.
“You expected something.”
“I expected dinner.”
“Only dinner?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“You.”
Maya narrowed her eyes.
“That’s almost a good answer.”
“Almost?”
“I expected a billionaire with boundaries.”
She paused.
“And I’m still waiting to find those.”
David should have been irritated.
Instead, something unfamiliar happened.
He laughed.
A real laugh.
Quiet.
Brief.
But unmistakable.
Maya looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Before either could continue, Marcus’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
And his entire expression changed.
David noticed instantly.
“What happened?”
Marcus stepped away.
Listened.
Then slowly turned back toward David.
“There’s something you need to know.”
David’s amusement disappeared.
“What?”
Marcus looked toward Maya.
Then back at David.
“The hospital called.”
Maya froze.
“My mother?”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
His voice lowered.
“It’s about the name on your payment agreement.”
David frowned.
“What name?”
Marcus hesitated.
Then said quietly,
“Elena Carter.”
Maya looked between them.
David’s face had gone completely still.
Because David knew that name.
May you like
And Maya had no idea why.
---
Related Stories
