Chapter 11
Bailey
Iwake up Wednesday morning with my body aching in places that remind me exactly what I did last night.
My alarm is blaring. The sunlight is too bright through my curtains, and my sheets are tangled around my legs like I spent the night fighting them.
I reach over and silence the alarm with a groan.
Then I bury my face in my pillow and try to convince myself that yesterday was a mistake. It was only a lapse in judgment brought on by too much tension and insufficient sleep. It doesn’t mean anything. It can’t mean anything.
Except my body disagrees. My skin still tingles where Daniel touched me. My lips are slightly swollen from kissing, and my heart is doing backflips whenever I think about how he’d looked at me.
I force myself out of bed and into the shower, but the hot water doesn’t wash away the memories. If anything, it makes them more vivid. I can still feel his hands sliding up my thighs and hear the rough edge in his voice when he’d asked if I was sure.
I get dressed on autopilot.
My phone buzzes while I’m making coffee.
Gretchen: You’ve been radio silent for days. Are you alive? Did the fake boyfriend murder you?
Me: Still alive. Just busy.
Gretchen: Busy with work or busy with the hot billionaire?
I stare at the message, wondering if I should tell her what happened. No. I’m not ready to admit it yet, so I type: Just work. I’ll call you this weekend.
Gretchen: You better. I want details.
If only she knew how many details there were now.
I arrive at the office at eight thirty. It’s earlier than usual but not suspiciously so. A few people are already at their desks, and the morning coffee crowd is gathering in the break room.
I keep my head down and head straight to my workspace.
When I pass Daniel’s office, it’s dark. He’s not here yet. I tell myself I’m relieved and ignore how my stomach sinks with disappointment.
I settle at my desk and open my laptop. Focus. I need to focus.
By nine, the office has filled with the usual morning chaos. People have settled in, and phones are ringing nonstop. I'm deep in a color palette revision when I sense someone standing nearby.
I look up.
Daniel is standing by my desk in a fresh suit. His tie is perfectly straight, and his expression is completely unreadable. Unlike me, he looks like he got a full eight hours of sleep.
“Ms. Rodgers. Do you have a moment to review the Morrison presentation?”
Ms. Rodgers. Not Bailey.
Weird.
“Of course, Mr. Williams.” I can play this game too.
I follow him to his office. The walk feels endless because every step reminds me of last night.
Daniel closes the door behind us. For a moment, I think he will say something about yesterday. Maybe acknowledge what happened or tell me he hasn’t stopped thinking about it.
Instead, he pulls up a presentation on his laptop. “Morrison wants these slides adjusted. The color scheme needs to be more conservative—less creative and more corporate.”
I stare at him. “That’s what you wanted to discuss?”
“That’s what we need to discuss.” His voice is clipped.
Yeah, something is definitely wrong.
The presentation is in two days. Can you have revisions by tomorrow morning?”
“Yes.”
“Good. That’s all.”
He’s dismissing me? Is Daniel Williams seriously dismissing me like I’m any other employee?
Something twists in my chest painfully.
“Daniel—”
“That’s all, Ms. Rodgers.” He doesn’t look up from his screen.
I walk out before I can say something I’ll regret.
Back at my desk, I pull up the Larsson file with shaking hands. The slides are excellent as they are, but the message behind Daniel’s instruction is clear. Make it less me.
I spend the next three hours draining every ounce of personality from the presentation. By noon, it looks like every other bland corporate deck in existence. Mission accomplished.
My phone buzzes. I glance down, expecting Gretchen again, but Derek’s name flashes across the screen instead.
Derek: I miss you. Can we talk?
I delete it without reading the rest. Whatever he has to say, I don’t want to hear it.
“Hey, Bailey!” Sarah from marketing appears at my desk, grinning. “Did you see the article?”
My stomach drops. “What article?”
She pulls out her phone and shows me. It takes a while to get some focus because of her excitement, but when my eyes catch some of the screen’s content, my heart stops.
I practically snatch the phone out of her hands to gape at the gossip site featuring a photo from the gala.
Daniel and I, his arm around my waist, looking at each other like we’re the only two people in the world.
The headline reads: DANIEL WILLIAMS DEBUTS NEW GIRLFRIEND, RISING DESIGNER BAILEY RODGERS.
“You two are everywhere,” Sarah says, oblivious to my panic. “It’s so romantic.”
The words blur together as I scan the article. It mentions my position at Williams Ventures, describes me as a “talented up-and-comer,” and speculates about how we met. The comments section is already filling with opinions, some supportive, others questioning whether I got my job because of Daniel.
“Thanks for showing me,” I manage.
Sarah leaves, and I immediately pull out my phone. Trevor is going to see this. If he hasn’t already, he will soon.
I should have called him first and controlled the narrative like Daniel said.
My hands shake as I dial Trevor’s number.
“Hey, Bay!” His voice is cheerful. “What’s up?”
“Hey. Do you have a minute?”
“Yeah, just finished rounds. What’s going on?”
I take a breath. “I need to tell you something. About Daniel.”
The pause on the other end is heavy. “What about him?”
“We’re… seeing each other. Dating.”
Silence.
“Trevor?”
“Since when?” His voice has changed. It’s calmer now, which is so much worse.
“A few weeks. It started casually, but—”
“A few weeks? The reunion was two weeks ago. You met him for the first time two weeks ago.”
Shit. “Actually, I—we work together. I’ve been working at Williams Ventures since before the reunion.”
The silence this time is deafening.
“You’ve been working for him.” It’s not a question. “For weeks. And you didn’t tell me.”
“I was going to—”
“You made me look like an idiot, Bailey. I introduced you to each other like strangers. You both stood there and let me do it.” His voice rises. “I thought we didn’t keep secrets.”
Guilt twists in my chest. “We don’t. I’m sorry. It all happened so fast, and I didn’t know how to—”
“How to what? Tell your brother the truth? That’s pretty straightforward.”
“Trevor, please—”
“Does he know?” Trevor’s voice cracks slightly. “Does he know you’re my sister when he hired you? Or did you conveniently forget to mention that, too?”
“He knew at the reunion, not before.”
Trevor laughs bitterly. “Perfect. So you’re both liars.”
“That’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair is finding out my best friend and my sister have been lying to my face for weeks.” He pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice is even quieter. “You both made a fool of me.”
“We didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t. Just … don’t.”
Knowing Trevor, I shut my mouth immediately.
The last thing I want to do is annoy him further.
The silence that settles after is tight and brittle.
I can hear my own breathing getting too loud, like the phone is suddenly pressed directly against my ribs.
On his end, there’s nothing except just that electric stillness that means he’s angrier than he’s letting on.
Seconds drag. He doesn’t fill them.
When he finally speaks, it’s in a low, curt tone.
“We’ll talk about it later. I’m not doing this right now.”
A faint shift, maybe the sound of him adjusting his grip on the phone, then his voice hardens again.
“Tell Daniel that when he’s ready to talk to me, he’d better be ready. Because I’m not going easy on him.”
Another beat of silence.
“As for you… I’ll say what I need to say when I’m ready. Until then…” A dry exhale, almost a scoff. “…just be careful. Daniel is not simple. He has been through hell.”
My pulse quickens. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not my story to tell. Just… he’s got baggage, Bay. Serious baggage. And when he gets hurt, he shuts down completely.”
I know he’s right, but then I find myself retorting,
“I can handle it.”
I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince Trevor or myself.
“Can you? Because I’ve watched him destroy every relationship he’s ever had. He doesn’t mean to, but he does. He gets close to people and then pushes them away before they can leave first.”
“He’s not like that with me.”
“He’s exactly like that with everyone. He just hasn’t shown you that side yet.”
The warning sits heavy in my chest.
“I have to go,” Trevor says. “I need time to process this.”
“Trevor—”
“I’ll call you later. Maybe.”
The line goes dead.
I sit frozen at my desk, Trevor’s words echoing in my head. When he gets hurt, he shuts down completely.
Is that what happened this morning? Is Daniel already pushing me away?
I glance toward his office. Through the glass walls, I can see him on a call, gesturing with one hand. He looks perfectly composed, completely unaffected.
Meanwhile, I’m falling apart.
***
That evening, Gretchen shows up at my apartment with Thai food and wine.
“Emergency best friend intervention,” she announces, pushing past me into the living room. “You’ve been weird for days, and I’m not leaving until you tell me everything.”
I sink onto the couch beside her. “It’s complicated.”
“Everything with you is complicated lately. Start talking.”
So I do. I tell her about the kiss on the terrace, about Daniel opening up about his past, about the photoshoot, about what happened on my desk.
Gretchen listens without interrupting, her expression shifting from shock to concern to something that might be sympathy.
“So let me get this straight,” she says when I finish. “Your fake relationship is not so fake anymore, and now Daniel is acting like nothing happened?”
“That about sums it up.”
“Bay.” She sets down her wine. “This is a disaster.”
“I know.”
“But you’re in love with him.”
I choke on my wine. “I’m not—”
“Don’t lie to me. I can see it all over your face. You’re in love with Daniel Williams.”
I open my mouth to deny it. To say it’s just attraction or … or just chemistry or proximity. Nothing serious, but the words won’t come.
Because she’s right.
“I can’t be in love with him,” I whisper. “This was supposed to be business.”
“Feelings don’t care about business arrangements.” Gretchen takes my hand. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing. He made it pretty clear this morning that last night was a mistake.”
“Did he say that?”
“He didn’t have to. He treated me like I was nothing.”
“Or maybe he’s scared. He probably doesn’t know how to handle this any more than you do.”
I shake my head. “Trevor warned me. He said Daniel pushes people away.”
“Then don’t let him.” Gretchen squeezes my hand. “If he means something to you, fight for it. Be honest. Tell him how you feel.”
“And if he doesn’t feel the same way?”
“Then at least you’ll know. Secrets ruin things, Bay. If he means something, be honest before it’s too late.”
Later, after Gretchen leaves, I lie in bed staring at the ceiling.
I can’t fall for him, I tell myself.
But my heart already has.
And I have no idea what to do about it.