Chapter 1 - The Espresso Proposal
The afternoon sun cutting through the rain-streaked windows of the Belltown café did little to warm Maya Bennett’s cold hands.
She pressed her forehead against the cool stainless steel of the syrup rack, her heart pounding against her ribs as she clutched her phone like a lifeline. On the other end of the line, her best friend Clara was offering useless sympathy.
“Maya, just tell your aunt the truth,” Clara urged over the static. “Tell her Daniel broke his ankle. Or caught flu. Or died.”
“I can’t,” Maya hissed, lowering her voice as a pair of college students walked past the pickup counter. “Aunt Judith spent twenty minutes on the phone last night telling my mother that I’m ‘finally settling down with a respectable man.’ If I show up at Chloe’s wedding alone tomorrow, Judith will spend the entire reception setting me up with her dentist’s thirty-eight-year-old son who still lives in her basement.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, her apron strings loose at her waist.
“I need a boyfriend by tomorrow. Someone tall, reasonably attractive, socially functional, and capable of pretending he likes me for twenty-four hours.”
She hung up before Clara could offer any more unhelpful advice, slid her phone into her apron pocket, and took a deep breath. She smoothed down her front, put on her practiced, cheerful service smile, and turned around to wipe down the espresso machine.
A dark shadow fell across the polished granite counter.
Mason Reed stood on the other side.
Up close, the man was staggering. Maya had served him his double espresso three times a week for six months, but she had always observed him from a safe distance while he sat at his corner table with his tablet. Now, standing directly in front of her, his presence was overwhelming. He wore a dark charcoal suit tailored so perfectly it looked painted onto his broad shoulders. His dark hair was combed back smoothly, exposing a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and dark hazel eyes that possessed an eerie, unblinking intensity.
“Another espresso, Mr. Reed?” Maya asked, reaching instinctively for a clean porcelain cup.
“No.”
The single word fell between them like a heavy brass weight.
Maya paused, her fingers hovering over the steam wand. “Is everything alright with your drink?”
“The coffee was fine,” Mason said, his voice a low, resonant baritone that vibrated right through the counter. “I have a proposal.”
Maya blinked, taken aback. “I’m sorry?”
“I overheard your conversation.”
A sudden wave of heat rushed up Maya’s neck, burning her cheeks. She crossed her arms defensively over her green apron. “That was a private phone call, Mr. Reed.”
“Yes.”
“And you were listening?”
“Accidentally at first,” he replied smoothly, not a single flicker of shame in his unreadable eyes.
“And after that?”
His gaze held hers, magnetic and immovable. “Deliberately.”
Maya let out a sharp, breathless laugh, folding her arms tighter. “What exactly are you proposing, Mr. Reed?”
Mason leaned slightly closer over the glass pastry display. The subtle scent of expensive cedarwood cologne, ozone, and cold autumn air drifted across the counter.
“Tell your family you’re bringing me.”
Behind the espresso machine, Maya’s coworker, Toby, dropped a heavy metal steaming pitcher onto the floor with a loud, metallic CLANG. Neither Maya nor Mason looked at him.
Maya stared at the billionaire investor as if he had spoken in ancient Greek. “You’re offering to pretend to be my fake boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
For the first time in six months of quiet visits, the shadow of a smile touched the corner of Mason Reed’s lips—sharp, controlled, and brief.
“Curiosity.”
Maya didn’t smile back. A cold prickle of caution flared at the base of her skull. She realized with a sudden, alarming clarity that despite seeing this man three times a week, she knew absolutely nothing about him beyond his name and his drink order.
“What do you actually do, Mr. Reed?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Investments.”
“That vague?”
“Private capital. Acquisitions. Logistics.”
Maya leaned her forearms on the counter, searching his unyielding face. “Do you have a criminal record?”
Mason paused.
It was a fraction of a second—a minute, almost imperceptible hesitation before he blinked. But to Maya, who spent her days watching body language across a busy coffee shop, it was as loud as a gunshot.
“That pause was way too long,” she said flatly.
Mason’s expression barely changed, though a glint of genuine amusement flickered deep in his dark eyes.
“I’ve never been convicted of anything.”
Maya stared at him, her heart doing a bizarre, erratic flip inside her chest. “That is not the same thing as being innocent!”
May you like
“It is the only definition that matters in a court of law,” Mason replied quietly. He pulled a heavy, matte-black metal business card from his interior jacket pocket and slid it across the granite surface toward her. “I will pick you up tomorrow at ten in the morning. Have your dress ready.”
Before she could object, he turned on his heel and walked out the glass front door, leaving Maya holding a black card that bore only a single silver phone number and two words: REED GLOBAL.
