Chapter 24

Ethan’s POV

GlowMira’s hallways had always been quiet in the early morning—sterile, professional, efficient. Just the way I liked it.

Until recently.

I hadn’t seen her in two days—Jessica, as she introduced herself. But her image lingered. The dramatic entrance. The exaggerated voice. That absurd wig. And still, something about her was... distracting.

I told her I knew the truth. That her performance was see-through from the start. The way her expression collapsed was etched into memory. Amusing, in a way.

"David."

David looked up from his tablet. "Yes, sir?"

"Find me a list of trending date spots."

He paused. "For… you, sir?"

I didn’t look at him. "Just do it."

I walked on without waiting for the reply. Behind me, I heard greetings.

“Good morning, Mr. Reynolds!”

I gave a nod. “Morning.”

The air practically froze.

“Did he just—smile?” someone whispered.

“Is that allowed?”

Tch. People noticed too much.

All I wanted was a wife. A simple fix. Jessica had been entertaining, at least. Unpredictable. That kind of energy… maybe it was what I needed to keep the press and my grandfather at bay.

Then I heard it.

“Ughhh, I’m going insane!”

I slowed.

Harper’s POV

Why. Why does the universe hate me?

I had my forehead pressed against the cold marble beside the elevator, praying it would somehow suck me into another dimension. One without fake identities. Or four-inch heels.

“This is my cross to carry,” I muttered. “A life twisted in every possible way…”

I gave the wall another weak thud. Just enough to feel mildly punished.

Of course I hadn’t seen him standing there. Of course Ethan freaking Reynolds would appear just as I was having a public meltdown.

I peeled myself off the wall and turned—

—and smacked right into a chest. Solid. Familiar. Smelling way too good for someone I was actively lying to.

My heart plummeted.

“M-Mr. Reynolds?!” I squeaked, tripping back.

His face was unreadable. “Didn’t expect you to nearly faint from a bump.”

“I’m fine! Totally fine!” I choked, wishing a sinkhole would open beneath me.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Your voice… Are you sure you're alright?"

Don’t crack. Don’t crack. Don’t crack.

“Yes! Yep! Great! Never better!”

I bolted, practically flinging myself down the hall.

Behind me, I swore I heard him murmur, “...Feels familiar.”

Crap. Crap crap crap.

I made it to the stairwell and collapsed against the railing.

He didn’t recognize me. Thank God.

But he almost did.

I could feel it—one wrong word, one weird glance, and the whole thing would unravel.

He only knew Jessica. The bombshell in heels. Not Harper, the flustered admin assistant running on caffeine and bad decisions.

“This is unsustainable,” I whispered. “I need a new identity. Or a witness protection program.”

My phone buzzed. Riley.

“Chicken?”

“I’m going to kill her,” I muttered.

Because if Ethan Reynolds figured out who I really was,

I was absolutely, positively fried.

Hours later, I was back at my family's restaurant—arms elbow-deep in soapy water, regretting every life choice that led me here.

And then she appeared.

"Harper Adams!" Riley barged in like the chaos goblin she was, clutching a paper bag and dodging the broom I immediately swung at her head.

“You scheming, wig-planting, fake-date-setting menace!” I screeched.

“I brought chicken!” she held the bag up like a white flag.

"You're a week late and a million dollars short!" I lunged, but my little brother, Jason, casually slid between us.

“Easy, Captain Crazy,” he said, taking the bag. “Fully fried or half-half?”

“Half-half,” Riley muttered, still using him as a human shield. “bestie, —uh, Harper, I’m seriously sorry.”

I narrowed my eyes, steam practically shooting from my ears.

“I've had morning wake-up calls before sunrise. Makeup. Dresses. Train sprints. And every night, I’m stuck ‘practicing’ with a guy who thinks smiling is a threat and hand-holding is a hostage situation!”

Riley winced. “You’re not... enjoying any of it?”

“Enjoying? ENJOYING? The only thing I’m enjoying is fantasizing about shoving my shoe down your throat!”

"But you’re still seeing him, right?" she asked, suspiciously hopeful.

I groaned, gripping a towel like it might snap her neck for me. “Yes. But only because he keeps calling me and threatening to show up at my job!”

"...You're not even getting paid?!"

“It’s a long story,” I muttered, scrubbing at the counter like it insulted my ancestors. “Apparently, I’m working pro bono for my own doom.”

“Oh come on, at least he’s rich, right? Tall, sharp jawline, terrifying yet handsome? Remember your blind date wish list?”

I narrowed my eyes. “You're joking.”

“I’m not! He checks every box you gave me: wealthy, brilliant, stupidly good-looking—and now you’re fake-dating him!”

"Fake-marrying," I corrected darkly. "There’s a difference. One includes death by corporate scandal."

"Harper, you could fall for him. It could be destiny"

I could clearly see the  sparkle in her eyes.

“Riley. If you say the word destiny, I will take this mop and shove it up your—”

“DOUBLE MARRIAGE!” she squealed. “David and I, you and Ethan—we could honeymoon together!”

WHACK.

The mop handle came down squarely on her head.

“I SAID STOP.”

"But he’s perfect for you!"

“HE’S MY BOSS!”

“I set you up with your dream guy, Harper. That makes me a hero.”

“That makes you a psychopath,” I hissed, chasing her around the restaurant.

"JESUS- PUT THAT THING DOWN!" She yelled behind her.

"IF I GET YOU, YOU'RE DEAD!" I continued to run after her.

"Okay, okay, I was wrong! I WAS WRONG, HARPER!"

BANG.

I yelped as my foot caught on the mop bucket, sending me flying forward. My forehead smacked the corner of the prep table with a loud thud. Stars exploded behind my eyelids as I crumpled to the floor.

“Harper!” Riley shrieked, running toward me.

“Ugh… destiny my ass,” I muttered weakly, clutching my head.

And then everything went black.