She Offered a Masked Stranger Sixty Dollars for a Kiss—Then They Announced Him as the City’s Most Feared Mafia Boss
Part 1
The company’s masquerade ballroom glittered under a thousand crystal lights, and Maya Ellis had already decided she hated it. Not the music, not the champagne, not even the ridiculous masks. She hated the particular brand of laughter coming from the corner where her colleagues had clustered, the kind that always arrived just before someone said something they would later claim was only a joke.
“Fifty dollars says no man in this room will kiss Maya,” Vanessa announced, loud enough for the group to hear and just soft enough that she could pretend she hadn’t meant it to carry. “Even with a mask. Nobody’s that desperate.”
Maya smiled. She had spent years perfecting that smile—the one that looked amused instead of wounded. She adjusted the simple black mask that covered only the upper half of her face and set her empty glass on a nearby table.
“Careful, Vanessa. You might win.”
She walked away before anyone could see whether her hands were steady. Beside the towering champagne fountain stood a man who looked as though he had been carved out of the night itself. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a black suit that cost more than her entire consultancy contract, and wearing a black mask that left only his mouth and jaw visible. He wasn’t dancing. He wasn’t networking. He was simply standing there, watching the room with the detached calm of someone who already owned most of it.
Maya stopped in front of him. Her heart was doing something ridiculous, but her voice stayed level.
“I’ll pay you fifty dollars to come to my table, offer me a drink, and kiss me.”
He studied her for a long moment. The mask made it impossible to read his eyes, but his mouth curved.
“Only fifty?”
“Fine. Sixty. Don’t get greedy.”
He laughed—a low, genuine sound that surprised her. “Ten minutes.”
Exactly ten minutes later he appeared at her table with two glasses of champagne. Vanessa and the others had already settled into smug silence. The masked stranger set one glass in front of Maya, leaned down, and spoke so only she could hear.
“Are you certain?”
She nodded. He kissed her.
It lasted three seconds. Long enough for the table to go silent, long enough for Maya to forget, for one brief and dangerous moment, that this was only a transaction. When he straightened, the room seemed to tilt. She collected the fifty-dollar bill Vanessa slapped onto the table with visible reluctance, and the masked man disappeared back into the crowd as if he had never existed.
Then the host took the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to introduce this evening’s honored guest—the man who owns the building we stand in, and whose generosity made tonight possible. Please welcome Mr. Adrien Voss.”
The stranger stepped onto the stage. He removed his mask.
Maya dropped the fifty-dollar bill.
For several seconds she could not breathe. Adrien Voss. The name people whispered when they thought no one important was listening. The man whose business empire extended far beyond anything respectable. The man she had just paid sixty dollars to kiss her in front of her entire company.
Vanessa made a strangled noise beside her. “You kissed Adrien Voss.”
Maya nodded.
“You paid Adrien Voss to kiss you.”
“Thank you, Vanessa. The first sentence was already quite informative.”
On the stage, Adrien accepted the microphone. He looked perfectly comfortable. Maya hated him a little for that.
“Thank you for inviting me,” he said. His voice was calm, deep, and unfortunately familiar. “I’ve had a very entertaining evening.”
His eyes found her. She immediately examined the carpet.
“He’s looking at you,” Vanessa hissed.
“I’m admiring the flooring.”
“He’s smiling.”
“Excellent. Perhaps he’ll donate money for new flooring.”
Adrien’s speech was brief, professional, and completely ordinary, which somehow made everything worse, because Maya could still remember the way he had kissed her. Not hurriedly. Not awkwardly. He had asked if she was certain. And she had said yes.
The moment he finished speaking, she headed for the exit. She made it exactly twelve steps.
“Miss Ellis.”
She stopped. Of course. She turned. Adrien stood behind her, mask gone, holding a champagne glass. Without the mask he was even more unfairly handsome. Maya folded her arms.
“Before you say anything, I would like to clarify that I don’t usually hire men.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“For kissing. Less reassuring.” She closed her eyes. “Could we restart this conversation?”
“Certainly.” He extended his hand. “Adrien Voss.”
She stared at it, then shook it. “Maya Ellis. Financially irresponsible.”
His mouth curved. “I noticed.”
She glanced around. Several guests were pretending not to watch them. They were terrible at pretending.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know who you were.”
“Would it have changed your offer?”
“Absolutely.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I would have offered you twenty dollars. Clearly you don’t need the money.”
Adrien laughed. It was a genuine laugh, loud enough that two nearby executives turned around. Maya stared at him.
“Please stop doing that.”
“Laughing?”
“Yes. People are going to think I’m interesting.”
“I already think you’re interesting.”
For once, Maya had no immediate response. Adrien looked delighted by this discovery. Then he held out his hand.
“I believe you owe me sixty dollars.”
She gasped. “You’re actually collecting?”
“A deal is a deal.”
“You’re a billionaire.”
“An excellent reason to maintain financial discipline.”
Maya reached into her purse. She found a lipstick, a receipt, three emergency chocolates, and absolutely no cash. Her smile became painfully polite.
“Would you accept chocolate?”
“What kind?”
“Dark.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re very difficult for a man who kisses strangers professionally.”
“Professionally? I haven’t been paid.”
She pressed a chocolate into his palm. “Consider this a deposit.”
He examined it, then slipped it into his jacket pocket. “Interest will apply.”
Maya shook her head. “I’ve accidentally borrowed money from the mafia.”
“Technically, you’ve hired the mafia. That’s considerably worse.”
Before he could answer, Vanessa approached with two colleagues who had suddenly developed a passionate interest in Maya’s evening.
“Mr. Voss,” Vanessa said brightly. “What a wonderful surprise.”
Adrien glanced at Maya. “Apparently I’m full of them.”
Vanessa laughed too loudly. “We were just having a little fun earlier. Maya has such a wonderful sense of humor.”
Maya smiled. “Especially when someone tells me no man would kiss me, even with a mask.”
Vanessa went pale. Adrien’s expression changed only slightly, but Maya noticed. He looked at Vanessa.
“That was the joke?”
Vanessa opened her mouth. Maya answered first. “Not a particularly original one. I’ve heard better insults from automatic parking machines.”
Adrien looked back at her. “Did you win?”
“Technically.”
“Technically?”
“I bet fifty dollars. You charged sixty.”
He considered that. “So you lost ten dollars and learned an important lesson about outsourcing romance.”
“Always negotiate before the first kiss.”
Maya burst out laughing. Vanessa and her friends stood there completely forgotten. For the first time that evening, Maya didn’t feel the slightest need to impress them. She turned to Vanessa.
“Thank you for the fifty dollars, by the way.” Then she looked at Adrien. “Unfortunately, I’ve already spent it.”
Adrien offered her his arm. “Would you like another drink?”
Maya hesitated. “Is this going to cost me?”
“Not unless you kiss me again.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “How much?”
He leaned closer. “That depends. Are we negotiating?”
Her cheeks warmed. Adrien Voss, a man who rarely had to ask anyone twice for anything, found himself hoping she would say yes.
Maya glanced toward the champagne tower, then back at him. “One drink. Agreed. And no hidden charges.”
“I’ll have my lawyer prepare something.”
She slipped her arm through his. “You’re joking.”
“Mostly.”
As they walked away, Maya caught sight of their reflection in a mirrored wall. The city’s most intimidating businessman was smiling, and she was smiling back, which was ridiculous because she had only approached him to win a stupid bet. She certainly hadn’t planned on liking him.
Adrien glanced down at her. “You’re thinking very loudly.”
“I’m calculating my losses.”
“Still ten dollars?”
She considered the question, then smiled. “Ask me again after the drink.”
Part 2
Adrien Voss had attended hundreds of expensive parties. He had negotiated impossible deals. He had sat across from men who were terrified to disagree with him. But he had never been asked whether he accepted chocolate as payment for a kiss.
Until tonight.
Maya Ellis stood beside the champagne tower, examining him with suspicion.
“Before we continue, I have a question.”
“Only one?”
“Do you actually want to have a drink with me?”
Adrien smiled. “Yes.”
“You’re not doing this because you feel sorry for me.”
“No.”
“Or because you’re planning to collect interest on that sixty dollars.”
“That was my original intention.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“Considerably.” He handed her a glass of champagne. Maya accepted it, then looked at the tower.
“How much does this thing cost? The champagne. The ridiculous glass mountain.”
“I have no idea.”
“That’s the most billionaire answer I’ve ever heard. Would you prefer that I invent a number?”
“Yes. Something outrageous.”
“Three million dollars.”
She nearly choked. Adrien laughed. “You’re very easy to entertain.”
“And you’re suspiciously good at lying.”
“Only about champagne towers.”
She studied him. For a man who had just been introduced as one of the city’s most powerful businessmen, Adrien seemed remarkably comfortable being insulted. It made him dangerous. Not in the way people whispered about. In a much more inconvenient way. He was charming.
“Tell me something,” he said.
“That depends.”
“Why did you choose me?”
Maya glanced around the ballroom. “Honestly? You were standing alone. An excellent qualification. You weren’t dancing. You weren’t bothering anyone. And you looked like a man who could follow simple instructions.”
“Clearly you misjudged me.”
“Clearly you’re still talking.”
Adrien laughed again. Then his expression softened. “You could have asked anyone.”
“Most men would have thought I was serious.”
“Weren’t you?”
“About winning the bet? Absolutely.”
“And the kiss?”
Maya looked into her champagne. That was a considerably more complicated question. The kiss was supposed to last three seconds.
“Did it?”
“Approximately.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“You’re charging interest on a kiss.”
“Neither of us is behaving normally.”
He raised his glass. “Fair.”
For a while they watched the dancers without their masks. Everyone seemed strangely ordinary. Maya noticed several guests glancing in their direction. She sighed.
“Tomorrow the entire company will be talking about me.”
“Do you work for them?”
“My consultancy handled their latest communications project. Tonight was supposed to be a polite goodbye.”
“That didn’t go according to plan.”
“Not unless the plan was to become a cautionary tale.”
Adrien looked at her. “Did what those women said hurt you?”
Maya immediately smiled. “Please. I’ve survived worse than Vanessa.”
He waited. It was an uncomfortable habit. Most people accepted her jokes and moved on. Adrien didn’t. Finally, she looked away.
“A little.”
He nodded. “That wasn’t a little joke.”
“No. But I refused to let them ruin my evening.”
“An admirable decision.”
“Besides, I made fifty dollars.”
“You owe me sixty.”
“Must you destroy every beautiful moment?”
“Financial discipline, Maya.”
She laughed, and somewhere between the champagne tower and her third terrible joke, she stopped noticing the people watching them. When the music changed, Adrien offered his hand.
“Would you like to dance?”
Maya stared at him. “Are you trying to bankrupt me?”
“The dance is complimentary.”
“That sounds suspicious.”
“I’ll put it in writing.”
She placed her glass down. “Fine. But I should warn you. I’m not particularly graceful.”
“Neither am I.”
“You’re lying.”
“Only about champagne towers.”
He led her onto the dance floor. Maya expected him to be an excellent dancer. Naturally, a man like Adrien probably arrived in the world knowing how to wear a tailored suit and intimidate accountants. Instead, he stepped directly on her foot.
She gasped. He froze. “Did I hurt you?”
“Only financially. These shoes were expensive.”
“My apologies.”
“You’re the worst professional date I’ve ever hired.”
“Technically, you hired me for one kiss.”
“Thank goodness. Your dancing would require a refund.”
Adrien lowered his head. His shoulders shook with laughter. Maya suddenly realized she liked making him laugh far too much. They finished the dance without further injuries. Almost. As the music ended, Maya accidentally stepped on his shoe. She looked up innocently.
“Now we’re even.”
“I believe that was deliberate.”
“Prove it.”
He smiled. “You’re trouble.”
“Sixty dollars’ worth.”
Later, when the party began to empty, Adrien walked her toward the entrance. A black car waited outside. Two serious-looking men stood nearby. Maya glanced at them.
“Are those your organized friends?”
Adrien looked impressed. “How did you know?”
“They’ve been staring at everyone except the actual party.”
“They’re very dedicated.”
“Do they come with the dance package?”
“Unfortunately.”
She laughed. Then her smile faded slightly. The evening was ending. She hadn’t expected to mind. Adrien noticed.
“May I see you again?”
Maya blinked.
“Without paying me,” he added.
She folded her arms. “I don’t know. My rates have increased.”
“Naturally. Inflation. A serious concern.”
She looked at him. He was waiting for a real answer. No pressure, no audience, no wager. And suddenly saying yes felt much more frightening than asking a stranger for a kiss.
“Coffee,” she said. “One cup. Somewhere normal.”
“Define normal.”
“No champagne towers, no men wearing earpieces, and absolutely no ballroom dancing.”
Adrien considered her conditions. “That’s a demanding contract.”
“I’m a difficult woman.”
“I noticed.”
He took out his phone. Maya gave him her number. Then she pointed a warning finger at him. “If you send me a bill for tonight, I’m blocking you.”
His phone buzzed. She looked down. A message from an unfamiliar number.
Your outstanding balance is $60.
Maya stared at him. Adrien looked completely innocent. She typed her reply.
Payment plan requested. $20 per date.
His phone buzzed. He read the message, then smiled. “Three dates.”
“Don’t get excited. I may pay early.”
He opened her car door. “I sincerely hope you don’t.”
Maya climbed inside, trying unsuccessfully to hide her smile. As the car pulled away, she looked back. Adrien was still standing beneath the entrance lights, watching her leave. Her phone buzzed again.
For the record, I would have kissed you for free.
Maya stared at the screen. Then she typed, For the record, your dancing wasn’t worth fifty.
His reply arrived almost immediately. Then I suppose you’ll have to teach me.
Maya laughed so loudly that her driver glanced at her in the mirror. She put her phone away, then took it out again. For the first time that evening, she wasn’t thinking about Vanessa or the bet or the humiliating joke. She was thinking about a man who owned half the buildings in the city and apparently couldn’t dance.
Across town, Adrien looked at the chocolate she had given him. He unwrapped it, took one bite, and immediately regretted it. Dark chocolate. Absolutely terrible. He finished it anyway. Then he sent one final message.
Friday. 7:00. Coffee. No dancing.
Maya answered. Agreed. Bring my $60.
Adrien smiled. For the first time in years, he was looking forward to Friday. Not because someone needed something from him, but because someone wanted to see him again.
Maya Ellis arrived at the coffee shop seventeen minutes early. She considered this a personal tragedy. A woman who had paid a stranger sixty dollars to kiss her should not be nervous about having coffee with him, especially when he still owed her a refund for terrible dancing. She checked her reflection in the window. Then she checked her phone. No messages. Excellent. Perhaps Adrien had changed his mind. Perhaps billionaires didn’t drink coffee. Perhaps he had purchased the entire coffee shop and was currently firing the furniture.
“You’re early.”
Maya nearly dropped her phone. Adrien stood behind her wearing dark jeans and a simple black sweater. No expensive suit, no intimidating entourage, and absolutely no mask. She stared.
“Where’s the mafia boss?”
He glanced behind him. “Should I be concerned?”
“You look normal.”
“That’s a devastating review. I was expecting a helicopter.”
“Parking is difficult.”
She laughed despite herself. Adrien opened the door. “Shall we?”
“Only if you’ve brought my money.”
“I’ve brought something better.”
“Unless it’s seventy dollars, I’m skeptical.”
He held up a small paper bag. Maya peeked inside. Chocolate. Milk chocolate.
She looked at him. “You remembered.”
“Your previous payment was terrible.”
“That was premium chocolate.”
“It tasted like punishment.”
She took the bag. “Fine. Your debt has been reduced by five dollars.”
“Generous.”
Inside, Adrien ordered black coffee. Maya ordered a caramel latte with extra whipped cream. He examined her drink.
“Is there any coffee in that?”
“Somewhere beneath the happiness.” She pointed at his cup. “Is there any happiness in yours?”
“Not currently.”
She pushed her drink toward him. “Try it.”
He took a cautious sip, then another. Maya gasped. “Adrien Voss likes whipped cream.”
“That’s confidential.”
“Should I sign something?”
“Several things.”
She grinned. For the next hour they talked. Not about money, not about the company party, and definitely not about the rumors surrounding his family. They talked about terrible movies, childhood disasters, and the unreasonable price of airport sandwiches. Maya discovered that Adrien hated olives. Adrien discovered that Maya owned seven houseplants and had somehow killed six.
“The seventh is fighting for its life,” she admitted.
“Perhaps it needs protection.”
“Are you offering your services?”
“I have an excellent security team.”
“Wonderful. My cactus needs a bodyguard.”
Adrien laughed, and Maya realized she hadn’t checked her phone once. When they left, a light rain had started. Adrien opened an umbrella. Maya looked at it suspiciously.
“Do you carry that everywhere?”
“I checked the forecast.”
“That’s disappointingly responsible.”
He offered her his arm. She accepted. They walked past a small bookstore. Maya stopped at the window. Adrien noticed.
“Want to go inside?”
“I thought you had plans.”
“I do.”
She stepped away from the window. “It’s fine.”
He looked at her. “Maya.”
“What?”
“Our plan is coffee. We’ve finished the coffee. Very observant. Now I’d like to go into that bookstore with you.”
She smiled. “Well, when you put it like that.”
Inside, Maya immediately disappeared between the shelves. Adrien found her ten minutes later, holding three novels.
“Are you buying all of those?”
“Obviously not.” She picked up a fourth. “Now I’m buying four.”
He examined the covers. “Romance?”
“Don’t sound so frightened. I’m simply gathering information.” She held up a book. “The hero is a terrifying businessman who secretly loves baking.”
Adrien frowned. “Unrealistic.”
“Because of the baking?”
“Because he apparently has time.”
She laughed. Then she noticed a cookbook on a nearby display. “Can you cook?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Several things.”
“Name one.”
“Reservations.”
Maya laughed so loudly that the bookstore owner looked over. Adrien appeared pleased with himself.
By the time they left, the rain had stopped. They stood outside beneath the bookstore awning. Neither moved. Maya glanced at his watch.
“You’re probably busy.”
“Not particularly.”
“Important mafia business.”
“Mostly laundry.”
She smiled. “Very threatening.”
He watched her for a moment. “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?”
Her heart performed an extremely inconvenient little jump. She immediately reached for a joke. “That depends. Have my rates increased?”
Adrien smiled. “Considerably.”
“Then I suppose I can make room in my schedule.”
“Good.”
He stepped closer. For one ridiculous second, Maya thought he might kiss her. Instead, he brushed a raindrop from her hair.
“Until tomorrow.”
Then he walked away.
Maya stood there, staring. “Unbelievable,” she muttered.
Her phone buzzed. Adrien.
You look disappointed.
She looked up. He was standing beside his car, watching her. She typed furiously.
I’m disappointed in your umbrella. Terrible performance.
His reply arrived immediately. Would you like me to come back?
Maya stared at the question. Yes. The answer was obvious, but suddenly asking felt impossible. At the masquerade party, kissing him had been easy. He was a stranger. She’d had nothing to lose. Now she liked him. And that changed everything.
She typed three different replies. Deleted all of them. Finally, she wrote, Actually, yes.
Adrien looked at his phone, then at her. He crossed the pavement.
“Umbrella emergency?”
Maya swallowed. “No.”
“Did you forget something?”
“Possibly.”
He waited. She looked into his eyes.
“Can I kiss you?”
His smile disappeared. Not because he was unhappy. Because for the first time that afternoon he looked genuinely surprised.
“You don’t have to pay me,” he said softly.
“Good. I’m already in debt.”
He laughed. Then he stepped closer. “Yes, Maya.”
She kissed him. There was no audience, no wager, no champagne, and absolutely no reason to pretend. When they finally pulled apart, Adrien rested his forehead against hers.
“That was considerably better than the first time.”
Maya smiled. “Excuse me. The first kiss was excellent.”
“You were conducting business.”
“And now?”
He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Now I’m hoping you’ll kiss me again.”
She grinned. “Look at you, asking for things.”
“I’m learning from a professional.”
Maya kissed him once more. Then she stepped back. “Tomorrow. Dinner. Seven.”
“I’ll be there.”
“And Adrien?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t bring an umbrella.”
He looked at the clear sky. “Why?”
She smiled. “Apparently I don’t need an excuse to kiss you anymore.”
Part 3
Adrien Voss had one hundred and seventeen unread emails, three important meetings, and a woman standing in his kitchen threatening him with a wooden spoon.
“Open the jar.”
He examined the jar of strawberry jam. “Can I open it?”
Maya stared at him. “Adrien.”
“Yes.”
“I can.”
He placed it back on the counter. She slowly lowered the spoon. “You’re doing this deliberately.”
“You asked whether I could open the jar.”
He obeyed. Maya snatched it from his hand. “One day someone is going to overthrow your criminal empire with a dictionary.”
“Then I hope you’ll defend me.”
“Depends. What’s my salary?”
“Sixty dollars.”
She threw a dish towel at him.
Three weeks had passed since their second kiss. Somehow, one dinner had become several. Then came lazy Sunday breakfasts, ridiculous text messages, and the discovery that Adrien’s expensive kitchen contained absolutely nothing useful. Maya had bought the jam herself. She’d also bought bread, butter, and a small cactus. The cactus was currently sitting beside Adrien’s coffee machine. He’d named it Harold. Maya suspected he loved Harold more than he loved most people.
On Saturday she took Adrien to a charity bowling event. He arrived looking confident. That lasted approximately eleven seconds. His first bowling ball rolled directly into the gutter. Maya stared.
“Was that a warning shot?”
Adrien examined the lane. “Something is wrong with the floor.”
“Naturally.”
His second attempt was worse. The ball traveled so slowly that Maya considered walking beside it for encouragement. When it finally disappeared into the gutter, she applauded.
“Remarkable. You’ve threatened absolutely none of the pins.”
Adrien removed his jacket. An hour later, Maya had scored twice as many points as he had. Adrien was furious. Not genuinely furious. The much more entertaining kind.
“I’d like to purchase this establishment.”
Maya laughed. “Why?”
“To have the lanes inspected.”
“Of course. Nothing says healthy competition like buying the competition.”
He pointed at her. “You’re enjoying my suffering immensely.”
She stepped behind him and adjusted his arm. “Relax your shoulders.”
“They’re relaxed.”
“You look like you’re preparing to interrogate the ball.”
He turned his head. “Are you finished?”
“Not remotely.” She kissed his cheek, then whispered, “Try not to frighten the pins.”
His next throw knocked down exactly one. Maya cheered as though he’d won an Olympic medal. Adrien looked at her.
“Marry me.”
She nearly dropped her drink. He smiled. “So you’ll stop laughing.”
She recovered quickly. “Absolutely not. Your suffering is the foundation of this relationship.”
He laughed and pulled her into his arms.
Later that evening they attended a charity reception. Maya wore a blue dress she’d almost talked herself out of buying. Adrien had spent a full minute staring when she’d arrived. Then he’d said something about the color. Maya had informed him that her eyes were considerably higher. He’d looked delighted.
Everything was going beautifully until Margot Vale appeared. Margot was an elegant woman from Adrien’s social circle. She examined Maya’s dress, then smiled.
“I admire your confidence.”
Maya recognized that particular smile. It usually came with an insult. “Thank you. I grew it myself.”
Margot’s eyes narrowed. “Not everyone could wear something so revealing.”
Maya glanced down. “My elbows are causing a scandal.”
A nearby guest laughed. Margot continued. “Well, I suppose after that famous party kiss, you’re comfortable attracting attention.”
Maya smiled. “I asked a handsome man if I could kiss him. He said yes.” She glanced toward Adrien. “Excellent decision on his part.”
Adrien raised his glass. “One of my finest.”
Margot’s smile stiffened. Maya leaned closer. “If that’s your definition of humiliation, you’ve been dating the wrong people.”
The nearby guests laughed again. Margot found an urgent reason to leave. Adrien watched her disappear.
“Remind me never to argue with you.”
“You argue with me every morning about jam.”
“I’m willing to accept those risks.”
Maya laughed, but the laughter didn’t last. Later, as they drove home, she kept adjusting the fabric of her dress. Adrien noticed.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
“No.”
He waited. She looked out the window. “Maybe a little. Because of Margot.”
Maya shrugged. “I handled it.”
“You did.”
“Then why are we discussing it?”
“Because handling something doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”
She turned toward him. For once, she couldn’t find a joke quickly enough.
“Sometimes I get tired,” she admitted.
“Of what?”
“Walking into a room and wondering whether people are judging my body before they hear me speak.”
Adrien remained quiet. She looked down. “I know I’m funny. I know I’m good at my job. I even know I looked beautiful tonight.”
“You did.”
“But sometimes I wish knowing those things made other people’s opinions completely irrelevant.”
He took her hand. “I can’t promise nobody will ever say something cruel.”
“That’s disappointing. I thought you owned the city.”
“Only the badly maintained bowling alleys.”
She laughed. He squeezed her hand. “But I can listen when it happens.”
Maya looked at him. “You don’t want to solve it?”
“Would you like me to?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t.”
She leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
When they reached her apartment, Adrien walked her to the door. She unlocked it, then turned. “Do you have to go?”
“No.”
She waited. He waited too. Maya narrowed her eyes. “You’re doing the jar thing again.”
“Possibly.”
She sighed dramatically. “Adrien Voss, will you come inside and stay a little longer?”
His smile softened. “Yes.”
She opened the door. “Good. Because Harold needs watering instructions.”
“Harold is thriving.”
“Harold is a cactus. He’s sensitive.”
She laughed and pulled him inside. Later they sat together on her sofa eating takeaway. Adrien had removed his expensive jacket. Maya had stolen half his fries. And when she rested her head against his shoulder, she realized something unexpected. She hadn’t needed him to defend her at the reception. She’d needed him to understand why she’d been hurt.
He kissed the top of her head. “Comfortable?”
“Very.”
“Would you like me to stay for breakfast?”
Maya smiled. “Look at you, asking for things.”
“I’m evolving. Slowly.”
He reached for another fry. She slapped his hand. “Those are mine.”
“I ordered them.”
“And I chose you.”
“Clearly my judgment is questionable.”
Adrien laughed. Then he kissed her. For a man who couldn’t bowl, he was becoming remarkably good at making her happy.
On Monday morning, Maya Ellis discovered that dating a powerful man came with one unexpected disadvantage. He owned an alarming number of phones, and every single one of them could ruin breakfast.
Adrien’s phone rang just as Maya was stealing the last piece of toast. He answered, listened, and frowned. She pointed at him.
“Absolutely not.”
He covered the phone. “What?”
“That toast is legally mine.”
He smiled. “Keep it.”
Then his expression changed. By the time he ended the call, Maya knew something was wrong.
“I have to leave tomorrow,” he said. “Business. Two days. Possibly three.”
She put down the toast. They’d planned to spend Wednesday evening together. It wasn’t an important occasion. Just dinner, a ridiculous movie, and the pleasure of making Adrien eat something that hadn’t been prepared by a professional chef.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asked.
Maya looked at him. Yes. The answer arrived immediately, but so did another thought. He was busy. People depended on him. She didn’t want to become another obligation. So she smiled.
“Of course not. Go.”
Adrien studied her. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Harold and I have an exciting social calendar.”
He kissed her forehead. “Then I’ll see you Thursday. Try not to buy any bowling alleys.”
“No promises.”
She laughed and watched him leave.
By Wednesday evening she hated herself a little, not because Adrien had gone, because she’d spent two days waiting for him to realize she hadn’t wanted him to. He called every evening. He sent photographs of terrible hotel coffee. He even asked whether Harold was eating properly. Maya replied with jokes. Everything was fine. Everything was wonderful. Everything was an enormous lie.
When Adrien returned on Thursday, he arrived carrying flowers and a replacement cactus. Maya stared at it.
“Why?”
“Harold needed a friend.”
“Harold is a plant.”
“Everyone needs companionship.”
She laughed, then immediately felt like crying. Adrien noticed. He set the flowers down.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He sighed. “Maya.”
She turned away. “I wanted you to stay.”
The words escaped before she could stop them. Adrien went still.
“You told me to go.”
“I know.”
“I asked you.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
She looked at him. “Because I wanted you to choose me.”
His expression softened. “I thought I was choosing you by respecting your answer.”
That silenced her. She sat on the sofa. Adrien sat beside her. For once, neither tried to make a joke.
“I spent years being the easy one,” Maya admitted. “The woman who doesn’t need anything. The woman who never makes a fuss.” She swallowed. “Sometimes I think that if I have to ask someone to stay, it means they didn’t really want to.”
Adrien took her hand. “Maya, I wanted to finish my work and I wanted to be here with you.”
“Both?”
“Both.”
“That’s inconvenient.”
“Extremely.”
She gave a small laugh. He moved closer. “If you ask me to stay, I might say yes. Sometimes I might have to say no.”
She nodded.
“But I will always tell you the truth.”
Maya looked down at their hands. Then something occurred to her.
“Adrien.”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you ever ask me for anything?”
He frowned. “I ask you things.”
“You ask whether I’ve eaten, whether I’m comfortable, whether I want you to stay.” She squeezed his hand. “But what do you want?”
Adrien opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Maya raised an eyebrow.
“Oh. This is interesting.”
“Don’t.”
“The great Adrien Voss has encountered a difficult question.”
He looked almost offended. Then he laughed. “I suppose I have.”
She leaned against him. “Think about it.”
He kissed her hair. “I will.”
The following evening, Maya heard a knock at her door. Adrien stood outside. No flowers. No expensive gifts. No replacement cactus. Just Adrien. He looked unusually uncomfortable. Maya folded her arms.
“Have you lost another bowling tournament?”
“Worse.”
“Did Harold die?”
“Harold is thriving.”
She waited. Adrien took a breath. “I had a terrible day.”
Her smile disappeared. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded, then fell silent. Maya understood. The man who could command an entire room was struggling to ask for something simple. She stepped closer.
“Ask me.”
He looked at her. “Can I come in?”
“Yes.”
“And could you hold me for a while?”
Her eyes filled. “Absolutely.”
He entered. She wrapped her arms around him. And for several minutes they stood together without speaking. Later they ordered takeaway. Adrien stole her fries. Maya threatened to charge him interest. And when he admitted that he hadn’t wanted to be alone, she kissed him until he stopped looking embarrassed.
Three months later they attended another formal party. This time Maya arrived with Adrien. She wore a beautiful red dress. He wore the expression of a man who knew he’d be terrible at dancing and intended to try anyway.
Someone recognized her. “Isn’t she the woman who paid you to kiss her?”
Maya smiled. “Sixty dollars. Terrible investment.”
Adrien put an arm around her. “I disagree.”
“Naturally. You still haven’t returned the money.”
“Would you accept dinner with dessert?”
“Obviously.”
She pretended to consider it. “Then we have a deal.”
Later they escaped onto a quiet balcony. Adrien looked at her.
“Can I ask you something?”
“That depends. Is it about bowling?”
“No.”
“Then proceed.”
“Will you come home with me tonight?”
Maya smiled. “Do you want me to?”
“Very much.”
“Then yes.”
She stepped closer. “Adrien.”
“Yes.”
“Can I kiss you?”
He grinned. “What’s your budget?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“Inflation has been devastating.”
She laughed. Then he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Yes, Maya.”
She kissed him. No masks, no bet, no audience to impress. When they pulled apart, Adrien rested his forehead against hers.
“Will you stay for breakfast?”
She smiled. “Look at you, asking for things.”
“I’m becoming quite good at it.”
“Don’t get arrogant.”
“Too late.”
Maya kissed him again. Their first kiss had cost sixty dollars. This one cost nothing, and neither of them had ever been happier to be exactly where they were.
