Chapter 3

The elevator ride was silent. There were no buttons in this elevator, just a glass panel that scanned Gabriel’s hand before taking us up.

My stomach did a somersault as the numbers climbed.

When the doors slid open, I actually stopped breathing for a second.

The penthouse wasn't just an apartment. The walls were nothing but floor to ceiling windows.

From up here, the city looked beautiful, peaceful, and small. It looked like something you could own.

"It’s... a lot," I managed to whisper, my voice sounding thin in the open space.

"It’s a cage," Gabriel said, tossing his keys onto a console table. The sound echoed. "But the view is decent. Can I get you a drink? Something better than coffee?"

"Water is fine," I said, though my nerves were screaming for something stronger.

I walked toward the window, my sneakers feeling loud and clumsy on the neat floors.

I looked down at the tiny headlights of cars miles below.

Somewhere down there, in a cramped three room apartment, Katherine was sleeping in a room that smelled like old laundry.

The guilt pricked at me, but I pushed it away. Tonight, I wasn't the girl who failed. Tonight, I was the girl in the limelight.

Gabriel walked up behind me. He didn't touch me, but I could feel the heat radiating off his body. He handed me a glass of water. Our fingers brushed, and that electric spark from the diner returned, sharper this time.

"Why me?" I asked, still staring at the city. "You could have anyone."

"That’s exactly why," he said. I turned to find him watching me, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. "You looked at me like I was just a man who needed a cup of coffee. I haven't been just a man in a very long time."

The kiss didn't taste like a billionaire's perfect life. It tasted like desperate need.

It was raw and hungry, the kind of kiss that happens when two people are trying to drown out the problems in our lives.

He tasted like expensive scotch and the cold night air, and his hands moved into my hair, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.

In the dark, with only the lights of the city shining against the ceiling, we weren't a billionaire and a waitress. We were just two people who were tired of being alone. Every touch was an escape. Every breath was a rebellion.

I woke up to a silence so heavy that it felt like something was sitting on my chest.

The bed was huge, larger than my entire kitchen and the sheets were so fine.

I reached out a hand, expecting to feel the warmth of a body beside me, expecting to feel the rise and fall of Gabriel’s chest.

Nothing.

I sat up, the sheets sliding down my skin. The other side of the bed was cold. The pillows hadn't even been disturbed for hours.

"Gabriel?" I whispered, my voice sounding small and pathetic.

No answer. Only the muffled sound of a siren somewhere far below on the street.

I climbed out of bed, wrapped in a plush white robe I found on a chair, and walked into the living room. The sunrise was starting to wash over me through windows, but the apartment felt like a tomb.

He was gone.

There was no note on the counter. No "thank you" or "call me." Not even a trace that he had been there at all, except for the two empty glasses in the sink. He hadn't just left; he had vanished.

A wave of humiliation washed over me, hotter and more painful than the hottest coffee I’d ever served.

I had broken every rule I had for myself. I had followed a stranger, thinking for one crazy moment that I was special, that this connection meant something.

But to him, I was just the "One Night Stand." I was the waitress who provided a distraction after a bad day in the boardroom.

He didn't need to say goodbye because I wasn't someone you said goodbye to. I was someone you moved on from.

"Stupid," I hissed to myself, my eyes stinging. "So incredibly stupid."

I scrambled back into the bedroom and grabbed my clothes. My cheap jeans felt rough and stiff. My t-shirt still smelled like the diner. I felt like an intruder. I dressed so fast I nearly tripped.

I didn't use the fancy shower. I didn't touch the expensive soaps. I just wanted to get out.

As I walked toward the elevator, I saw his keys were gone from the console.

He had probably left in the middle of the night, driven away by a chauffeur to some meeting or some flight, leaving me to wake up in his bed like a piece of forgotten luggage.

The elevator ride down felt like a fall from grace.

When the doors opened into the lobby, the doorman didn't even look at me. I was just a girl in old sneakers and a faded hoodie, scurrying out into the morning chill.

The Chicago wind hit me the moment I stepped onto the sidewalk, sharp and biting. I put my hands in my pockets and started walking toward the train station.

I felt empty. Every step away from that building was a step back into the reality that was waiting to finish me off.

I had to face Katherine’s attitude. I had to face the tuition bills. I had to face the fact that I was twenty-six years old and my "one reckless decision" had left me with nothing but a hundred-dollar tip and a memory that was already starting to hurt.

I told myself it didn't matter. I didn't even know his last name. I’d never see him again. He has vanished and I was going back to my life.

I boarded the train and leaned my head against the glass. I watched the city wake up, feeling like a different person than the girl who had walked into the diner twenty-four hours ago.

I thought the worst part of the night was being left alone in that bed.

I had no idea that in six weeks, I would be wishing I was only alone. I had no idea that Gabriel hadn't just left me a memory. He had left me a life. Not just one. Two.