The Man at the Corner Table
“I need a boyfriend by tomorrow.”
Maya Bennett whispered the words into her phone so quietly that she could barely hear herself say them.
She stood behind the counter of the little Seattle café where she had worked for nearly three years, one hand gripping her phone and the other holding a dish towel she had already twisted into a rope.
Outside, rain slid down the windows in silver lines.
Seattle was good at rain.
Maya was beginning to think it was also good at making bad situations worse.
“You need what?” her best friend, Tessa, asked through the phone.
“A boyfriend.”
“By tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“An actual boyfriend?”
“No, Tessa. A decorative one.”
There was silence.
Then Tessa laughed.
Maya closed her eyes.
“This isn't funny.”
“It is a little funny.”
“My cousin gets married tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“My entire family thinks I've been dating Daniel for three months.”
“I know.”
“And Daniel was supposed to come with me.”
“I know.”
“And?”
“He canceled.”
“He didn't cancel,” Maya said bitterly. “He texted me that he had ‘unexpected personal complications.’”
“That sounds like canceling.”
“He waited until this morning.”
“Okay.”
“And my aunt Judith has spent the last month telling everyone how wonderful my ‘mysterious boyfriend’ is.”
Tessa groaned.
Maya lowered her voice.
“I need someone tall, reasonably attractive, socially functional, capable of smiling at elderly relatives, and willing to pretend he likes me for approximately twenty-four hours.”
“Where are you going to find a man like that?”
“That is precisely the problem.”
She looked across the café.
Most of the customers were regulars.
Students with laptops.
Office workers.
A couple arguing quietly over a pastry.
An elderly man reading a newspaper.
And then there was him.
Mason Reed.
He sat alone at the corner table beside the window.
He had been there for almost an hour.
As usual.
Charcoal suit.
White shirt.
No tie.
A double espresso.
A tablet placed perfectly parallel to the edge of the table.
Mason came into the café several times a week.
He never ordered food.
Never talked to anyone unless necessary.
Never looked at his phone while drinking his espresso.
And somehow, without saying a word, he made the entire corner of the café feel different.
Maya had privately decided that he was either extremely wealthy or extremely dangerous.
Possibly both.
She knew only what the local business pages said.
Mason Reed.
Private investor.
Founder of Reed Capital.
Real-estate acquisitions.
Logistics.
Private security.
International investments.
The kind of man who appeared in financial magazines but rarely gave interviews.
He was probably in his early thirties, although Maya couldn't be sure.
His dark hair was always neat.
His watch was always expensive.
His expression was always unreadable.
And his eyes—
Maya stopped herself.
She was not supposed to be studying customers.
Especially customers who looked like they could buy the building.
She turned away.
“I have to go,” she whispered into the phone.
“Wait. What are you going to do?”
“I don't know.”
“Call Daniel.”
“I already did.”
“Call his mother.”
“Why?”
“To make him feel guilty.”
“Tessa.”
“Worth a try.”
Maya sighed.
“I'll figure something out.”
She hung up.
For several seconds, she stood behind the counter staring at the espresso machine.
Then she whispered to herself.
“Twenty-four hours. That's all.”
She didn't notice Mason Reed lift his eyes from his tablet.
She didn't notice that he had heard every word.
At first, he hadn't intended to listen.
Then he'd heard Daniel's name.
Then the words boyfriend by tomorrow.
Then the increasingly desperate description of what she needed.
And something about Maya's situation had amused him.
Not because he enjoyed her embarrassment.
Because he had spent years surrounded by people who wanted something from him.
Money.
Protection.
Power.
Access.
Maya Bennett was apparently the first person in a long time who wanted a boyfriend because her aunt was unbearable.
That was unusual.
And Mason Reed was interested in unusual things.
A few minutes later, Maya returned to the counter.
She forced herself to breathe.
Then she heard a quiet voice.
“I have a proposal.”
She looked up.
Mason stood on the other side of the counter.
Up close, he was even more intimidating.
“Another espresso?” she asked.
“No.”
Maya blinked.
“Then...?”
“I overheard your conversation.”
Her face immediately burned.
“That was private.”
“Yes.”
“You listened?”
“Accidentally at first.”
“And after that?”
His gaze remained steady.
“Deliberately.”
Maya stared at him.
At least he was honest.
“That is not reassuring.”
“No.”
“Then what exactly do you want?”
Mason placed one hand on the counter.
“I can solve your problem.”
Maya frowned.
“My boyfriend problem?”
“Yes.”
She looked around.
Nobody seemed to be paying attention.
“You're offering to pretend to be my boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
Maya actually laughed.
It came out as a nervous little sound.
“You're serious.”
“Very.”
“Why?”
Mason's expression changed.
Only slightly.
“Curiosity.”
“That isn't a normal reason.”
“I've never claimed to be normal.”
Maya folded her arms.
“Suppose I agree. What's in it for you?”
“An interesting evening.”
“That's it?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing else?”
“No.”
Maya studied him.
There was something strange about the offer.
Too easy.
Too confident.