The client dinner was supposed to be simple. Dress nice, smile, pretend to be the supportive girlfriend while Daniel dazzled the investors with charts and confidence.
Maya could handle that.
She even surprised herself with how natural it felt—resting her hand on his arm, leaning close when he spoke, laughing at his terrible jokes. Daniel's smile never wavered, and for a while, it was almost easy to believe none of this was fake.
Until the moment she overheard him.
They were standing near the bar, Daniel deep in conversation with one of the senior partners, a graying man who clapped him on the back and said with a booming laugh, "Didn't think you were the settling type, Reid. Never saw you as the office-romance guy."
Daniel's jaw tightened. His glass hovered halfway to his lips. Then he smiled smoothly, too smoothly.
"It's just for show," he said. "You know how Caldwell is—likes his people to look stable. Easier this way."
Maya froze.
Just for show.
The words sliced through her chest like broken glass.
She didn't hear the rest of their conversation. Her mind was buzzing too loudly, the warmth of their stolen moments in the office—soy sauce and hand-holding and almost-kisses—suddenly stripped bare, exposed as nothing more than strategy.
She excused herself quietly, barely trusting her voice. Daniel didn't notice. Or maybe he did, and chose not to stop her.
---
Back at her apartment that night, Maya curled up on the couch, laptop unopened, heart aching. She'd been foolish, letting herself blur the lines. He'd made it clear from the beginning: this was pretend. A performance.
And she had started to believe it could be more.
Clara, of course, noticed immediately the next morning.
"You look like someone ran over your puppy," she said, setting a coffee on Maya's desk. "Spill."
Maya hesitated. She hadn't told Clara about the slip at dinner, but the words bubbled up before she could stop them. "He said it's just for show. That's all this is to him."
Clara's brows shot up. "Ouch. But… are you sure he meant it like that?"
Maya laughed bitterly. "Pretty sure."
Clara leaned on the desk, her expression softening. "Then you need to decide if you can handle pretending. Because if you can't… you have to walk away."
Maya knew she was right. But walking away felt impossible.
---
Her chance came sooner than expected.
On Monday morning, Caldwell called them both into his office. He was grinning, which was never a good sign.
"I've decided something," he announced, folding his hands. "There's a corporate couples' retreat this weekend. I want you two to represent the company. Show our clients we're a family-friendly place."
Maya's stomach dropped.
A weekend. Alone. With Daniel. Pretending.
Daniel's face didn't betray a single emotion. "Of course, sir. We'd be honored."
Maya nodded numbly, her throat too tight for words.
When they left Caldwell's office, she spun on him. "You could've said no."
Daniel blinked at her. "And risk him thinking we're not… committed? You want that promotion, don't you?"
Her chest tightened. "Right. The promotion."
His eyes flickered, searching her face. "Maya—"
"Save it," she said, her voice sharp, cracking around the edges. "I get it. This is all strategy to you. Just pretend. You don't need to explain."
Before he could answer, she walked away, heart pounding, throat burning with unshed tears.
She'd wanted to believe. God, she'd wanted it so badly.
But hope was
a dangerous thing. And she wasn't sure she could survive it breaking again.