LOGINThe next evening, Claire stood in front of her closet - well, the closet that Jennifer had filled with clothes Claire would never have bought for herself - paralyzed by indecision.Wear whatever you're comfortable in, Damian had said. But what did that mean for dinner with his family? Jeans felt too casual, like she wasn't taking it seriously. The designer dresses Jennifer had bought for events felt too formal, like she was trying too hard. She finally settled on a soft blue sweater dress that hit just above her knees - elegant but approachable - and paired it with simple flats.When she emerged from her room, Damian was waiting by the elevator, and his eyes lit up in a way that made her heart skip."Perfect," he said simply."I changed five times.""Still perfect." He pressed the elevator button. "You could have worn pajamas and my mother would still adore you.""That's not comforting. That's terrifying."They rode the elevator down to the parking garage where, to Claire's surprise,
Claire woke to sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows and, for a confused moment, didn't remember where she was. The silk sheets, the soft mattress, the faint scent of expensive lavender - none of it belonged to her cramped apartment. Then it all came rushing back: the gala, the dancing, Caroline's cold assessment, Vanessa's unexpected kindness.And the way Damian had looked at her when they danced, like she was the only person in the room.Her phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand. She grabbed it, squinting at the screen through sleep-blurred eyes.Seventeen missed calls. Forty-three text messages. And her social media notifications had exploded into the thousands.With trembling fingers, she opened the first news alert."Mystery Woman Captivates Cole: Who is Claire Blake?"The photo showed her and Damian on the red carpet, his hand protective on her back, both of them smiling. She looked... happy. Natural. Like she belonged there, standing beside one of the most po
Eleanor led Claire to a quieter corner of the ballroom, near tall windows overlooking the city. She still had Claire's arm linked through hers, which felt both motherly and territorial at once."So," Eleanor said, settling into a chair and gesturing for Claire to sit, "coffee on my son. I'd pay money to see his face."Claire laughed nervously. "It wasn't my finest moment. I was mortified.""I'm sure you were. And what did he do?""He was... kind, actually. Didn't yell, didn't threaten to sue. Just gave me his business card and left."Eleanor's expression softened. "That sounds like Damian. Beneath all that CEO armor, he's quite decent." She studied Claire's face. "But I'm curious - when he called you later, why did you agree to see him again? Most women would have been too embarrassed."Claire hesitated. The truth was complicated: desperation, money, a fake contract. But she couldn't say that."He... intrigued me," she said finally. "Most people in his position would've made a scene.
The hotel hosting the gala was a palace of glass and gold. Photographers lined the red carpet, cameras flashing like lightning. Sleek cars delivered women in designer gowns and men in tuxedos, one after another.Claire's stomach lurched."I can't do this," she whispered.Damian squeezed her hand. "Yes, you can. Stay close to me, smile when you feel like it, and remember - you belong here just as much as anyone else.""I really don't.""Then fake it. You're good at that, remember? It's literally what I'm paying you for." His tone was light, teasing, and it helped.The car stopped. The driver opened the door. Flash bulbs exploded.Damian stepped out first, then turned and offered his hand. Claire took a breath, channeled every ounce of courage she had, and let him help her out.The noise was overwhelming - photographers shouting Damian's name, asking him to look left, right, who's your date? But his hand was warm and steady, anchoring her."Mr. Cole! Who's your companion?""Damian! Look
The rest of the week passed in a blur.Claire gave notice at the café. Mrs. Chen hugged her tight, whispered "I knew good things were coming," and promised to save her table whenever she visited.She moved into the guest suite in Damian's penthouse - a space larger than her entire apartment, with floor-to-ceiling windows, heated bathroom floors, and a bed so soft she almost cried the first night.Damian was surprisingly scarce. She'd see him mornings sometimes, already in a suit, heading out. He'd nod, ask if she needed anything, then disappear into his world of meetings.Jennifer, however, became a constant presence.Tuesday was shopping. They went to boutiques Claire had only walked past, where staff knew Jennifer by name and brought out dresses costing more than a month's rent. Claire protested, but Jennifer was relentless."You're going to a gala with the city's most prominent people. You need to look the part. Besides, Damian's covering this - it's in the contract."The dress the
Monday morning, Claire walked into Cole Enterprises with her head high and her stomach full of butterflies.Jennifer met her in the lobby. "Ready?""Not even a little bit.""Perfect. Confidence is overrated." Jennifer led her to the elevators. "We'll meet in the conference room. Damian's lawyer will walk you through the contract. Don't let Marcus intimidate you - he looks scary but he's a softie."Marcus turned out to be a mountain of a man with silver hair and reading glasses, spreading documents across a huge table. He looked up and broke into a warm smile."You must be Claire. Marc Harrison." He shook her hand gently. "I've drawn up the contract per Damian's specifications, but I want you to understand every word before you sign anything. My job is to protect both parties, which means making sure you're comfortable with every clause."Claire liked him immediately.They settled around the table. Marcus walked her through page by page. It was surprisingly straightforward: six months,







