The Bill‍ionaire’​s Muse

(Meghan’s POV)

Five hundred dollars in crumpled bills lay in his right hand, and the seconds were still counting down on the digital clock on his sister-in-law’s cell phone.

The air on the hotel rooftop balcony now felt suffocating, and my lungs wouldn’t expand.

Tightening my fingers around the edge of my aluminum serving tray, I could feel them digging into the metal as the realization dawned on me.

The man who had been staring intensely into my eyes for the past four minutes was not fascinated at all. He was just a competitive guy.

“The game is called Muse,” Vivienne said, her scarlet silk dress rustling as she stepped closer to us.

She picked up her cell phone and held it up, moving the stopwatch directly in my face. “The rules are simple, darling. You pick a total stranger from the working staff, you make them feel completely seen, and you get them to kiss you without touching them first.”

She twisted her razor-thin grimace in my direction and then back to Adrian. With a big smile on his face, Julian Vaughn was already stowing a leather wallet in his well-cut jacket pocket.

Vivienne laughed at Julian and tapped her acrylic nails against the screen of her phone. “He beat your time by two minutes, Julian. Pay up. A bet is a bet.”

Julian shook his head, a combination of annoyance and respect toward Adrian. “Fine, but you got lucky with this one. She was an easy target.”

My stomach hit the floor, a chill descending through me. I looked at Adrian. The heavy, sculpted jawline that had seemed so handsome thirty seconds ago now looked entirely monstrous.

His whiskey-colored eyes met mine, but the warmth I thought I saw there had completely vanished. His face was a smooth, blank mask.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I asked, my voice coming out as a dry whisper.

Adrian didn’t move. He just held the cash in his hand.

“What is there to say, Meghan?” Vivienne interjected, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. “It was just a bet to pass time before dinner. Don’t take it personally.”

I could hear a humming noise in my ears, very loud, even louder than the jazz that was playing in the background across the balcony.

“Five hundred dollars,” I said, looking right at Adrian’s mouth, the mouth I had just kissed because I actually thought he liked me too. “You did all of that for five hundred dollars?”

Adrian finally closed his hand around the cash, his voice flat and entirely devoid of the tenderness he had used moments before. “Don’t be dramatic. We barely know each other, so you don’t have to take it personally.”

“Dramatic?” I said. “Really, I thought you liked me.”

“Why would you think that?” Julian added, stepping up and placing a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “Come on, the table is ready inside. Let the girl get back to work before her manager sees her slacking off.”

They looked down on me and walked away without saying a word. As they approached the glass doors to the VIP lounge, Vivienne laughed at something Julian whispered in her ear, the red dress flashing under the lights of the balcony.

Then Adrian followed, shoved the money into his pocket, and left without looking me in the eye.

I froze in the middle of the balcony in silence. My knees shook and my breathing turned short and shallow, but I kept my spine straight.

I walked off the balcony and took the service elevator down to the basement.

The metal box groaned as it descended, and the smell of expensive perfume faded into the scent of bleach and old grease.

A sharp voice thundered into the night. “Meghan, there you are!”

The catering manager, Mr. Harrison, stepped into view with a clipboard under his arm. His face was hot from the heat of the kitchen, and his small eyes moved over me from head to toe.

“You’ve been on the top floor for fifteen minutes,” Mr. Harrison said, tapping his pen against the plastic board. “There needs to be more juice for the VIPs on the north balcony.”

“Something came up, sir,” I said, keeping my hands hidden behind my tray so he couldn’t see them shaking.

He snapped, “Here you go with excuses. I don’t give a damn about your excuses. Just so you know, the Vaughn family is throwing a big party tomorrow night, and I’m finalizing the lineup tonight. If you’re not up for a simple hotel switch, I’m taking your name off the list now.”

“I am completely fine, Mr. Harrison,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “The balcony was crowded, and it took longer to clear the tables. I am heading back up right now.”

For three long seconds, he didn’t take his eyes off me, his pen poised over the paper. “Make sure you do. And put out your nicest outfit for tomorrow night. The Vaughns don’t like mistakes.”

“Understood,” I murmured.

He looked away and started to bark at a dishwasher as I finally relaxed my shoulders.

I passed the roaring line in the kitchen and went into the employees’ locker room.

I placed my tray on the bench and looked at myself in the little broken mirror above the sink. My face looked worn out.

“Hey, have you done the east balcony?”

Sarah went to the locker room and threw her soiled apron into the laundry basket. She looked at me, and her brow furrowed when she noticed my hands. “Meghan? What happened to you? You look like you are about to pass out.”

“I’m fine,” I said, and the lie came out smoother than I expected. “I just feel a little tired.”

“Those people up there are animals,” Sarah grumbled, opening her locker to grab her purse. “The supervisor just told us we have to double-check our uniforms for tomorrow night. Apparently, the Vaughn family gala is a massive deal, and they don’t want a single mistake.”

I stopped breathing for a second as I turned around slowly. “The gala tomorrow is at their private estate, right?”

“Yeah, the mansion up in the hills,” Sarah said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Why? You look like you just thought of something evil.”

Tilting down to pick up my things, I replied, “Nothing. I just wanted to be sure of the time. I’m trying to be on time.”

Then Sarah laughed and made her way out of the door. “If it’s what you want. As for me, I’m coming late to the party. See you tomorrow, Meghan!”

Tomorrow night won’t be like today.

I will take every word he said to me against him, and when the night is over, the five hundred dollars will be the most expensive mistake he ever made.