CHAPTER 2

MAYA POV

The sunlight was too bright. It cut through the gaps in the heavy charcoal curtains, landing right across my eyes. I groaned, pulling a silk pillow over my head to block it out. My head felt like it was being squeezed by a vice, a dull reminder of the gin from the night before.

Slowly, the memories started to click into place. The cupcake box on the floor. Derek and Chloe. The bar. The man.

I sat up abruptly, clutching the smooth duvet to my chest. The room was massive, modern, and smelled faintly of cedar and expensive citrus. It was a minimalist’s dream—all glass, steel, and dark wood. I was alone in the bed.

My clothes were folded neatly on a chair by the window. I scrambled out of bed, wincing as my head throbbed, and dressed as quickly as I could. I needed to leave before things got weird. I needed to get to the office.

I found him in the kitchen.

Julian was standing by a marble island, wearing a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was holding a glass of green juice, looking like he’d been awake for hours. He didn't look like a man who had spent the night with a stranger. He looked like a man who owned the world.

"There’s coffee in the pot," he said without looking up from his tablet. "And aspirin in the cabinet to your left."

I stood awkwardly in the doorway, clutching my purse. "I should go. I have a meeting at nine."

He finally looked at me. His eyes were just as dark and intense as they had been in the club. "Eat something first. My driver is downstairs; he’ll get you to your office faster than a cab."

"I don't want to be a bother," I said, though the smell of the coffee was making my mouth water.

"You’re not a bother, Maya. You’re a guest." He motioned to the stool across from him. "Sit."

It wasn't a request. I sat. I poured myself a cup of coffee and took two of the pills he’d mentioned. "Thank you. For last night. And the ride."

"You don't remember much, do you?" he asked, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"I remember enough," I countered, feeling a flush creep up my neck. "I remember wanting to forget my life, and you helping me do it."

"You’re a good liar," Julian said, setting his tablet down. "You were heartbroken. Now you’re just hungover. The heartbreak will be back by noon."

I leaned back, holding the warm mug. "You’re very blunt, Julian."

"Saves time. Why waste breath on pleasantries when the truth is right there?" He checked his watch and stood up. "I have to head out. Stay as long as you need. Marcus is waiting at the curb whenever you're ready."

"Wait," I called out as he turned to leave. "Will I see you again?"

He paused, looking back over his shoulder. He didn't give me a phone number or a coy smile. "The city is smaller than you think, Maya."

Two hours later, I was standing in the lobby of Sterling & Co. I had spent twenty minutes in the office bathroom scrubbing my face and reapplying my mascara. I looked professional, even if I felt like I was falling apart.

"Maya! Thank God you're here," my supervisor, Sarah—a different Sarah, thank God—said as she hurried past me. "The merger meeting was moved up. The new CEO is already in the boardroom."

"The new CEO? I thought that wasn't happening until next month," I said, falling into step beside her.

"He pushed it forward. He’s a shark, Maya. Be on your best behavior. If he doesn't like the marketing pitch, we’re all out of a job."

I smoothed my skirt and took a deep breath. Focus, Maya. Work is the only thing you have left.

We entered the boardroom. Most of the senior staff were already seated, looking nervous. At the head of the long mahogany table, a man was sitting with his back to the door, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the skyline.

"Mr. Sterling?" my supervisor whispered. "The creative team is here."

The leather chair creaked as it swiveled around.

My heart didn't just skip a beat; it stopped entirely.

Julian sat there, dressed in a sharp navy suit, his hands folded neatly on the table. He looked at me, his expression unreadable, completely professional. There was no sign of the man who had whispered in my ear at the bar.

"Sit down," Julian said. His voice was cold, echoing in the silent room. "We’re already behind schedule."

I sat in the nearest empty chair, my hands shaking under the table. I tried to focus on the folders in front of me, but I could feel his gaze.

"Is there a problem, Miss...?" Julian paused, looking at the seating chart.

"Maya," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Maya Brooks."

"Miss Brooks," he corrected himself, his eyes locking onto mine. "You look pale. Are you quite finished with your funeral, or are we going to have an issue with your productivity today?"

The rest of the room went silent. My supervisor looked at me, confused.

"I'm perfectly fine, Mr. Sterling," I said, findng my backbone. I stared right back at him. "I'm ready to work."

"Good," he said, leaning forward. "Then let's see if your ideas are as interesting as your taste in gin."

He opened a file, dismissing the tension as if it were nothing. I reached for my water glass, but as I did, a sudden, sharp wave of nausea hit me. The smell of the catered salmon sandwiches at the end of the table suddenly felt like a physical punch to the stomach.

I clamped my hand over my mouth, my skin turning a ghostly shade of green.

Julian’s eyes narrowed as he watched me. "Miss Brooks?"

"I... excuse me," I choked out.

I pushed back my chair and bolted for the door.