Chapter 5 - The First Real Date“I’m staying.”
For several seconds, David Prescott simply stared at Maya.
It was probably the first time in his adult life that someone had given him exactly what he wanted and somehow left him completely unable to respond.
Maya noticed.
“That’s it?”
David blinked.
“What?”
“I give you a dramatic declaration after disappearing to think about my feelings, and all I get is staring?”
“I’m processing.”
“You own three companies.”
“Four.”
She frowned.
“You said three.”
“I bought another one last month.”
Maya stared at him.
“That is the most billionaire correction you could possibly make.”
David almost smiled.
“Would you like me to apologize?”
“No. I’d like you to react.”
He took one step toward her.
Then stopped.
Maya noticed that too.
Weeks earlier, she had given him a rule.
No touching.
David had never questioned it.
Even now, after she had returned and told him she wanted to try, he was waiting.
Something inside her softened.
“The rule can change,” she said quietly.
David’s expression shifted.
“Which rule?”
“You know which one.”
“I’d rather hear you say it.”
Maya narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t become difficult now.”
“I’ve been difficult the entire time.”
“Fair.”
She took a breath.
“You can touch me.”
David remained where he was.
“Maya.”
“What?”
“Are you sure?”
The question surprised her more than it should have.
This was the same man who had once arranged his evenings as efficiently as business meetings.
Different woman.
Dinner.
No promises.
Morning exit.
But that man had disappeared slowly enough that neither of them had noticed exactly when it happened.
Maya nodded.
“Yes.”
David crossed the distance between them.
His hand touched her cheek carefully.
There was nothing demanding about it.
Nothing assumed.
He simply looked at her.
Maya’s heartbeat became embarrassingly loud.
“You’re staring again.”
“I’m allowed.”
“According to who?”
“Me.”
“Terrible legal system.”
His thumb moved lightly against her cheek.
“You came back.”
“I said I would think.”
“You also said you hadn’t decided.”
“I enjoy making you uncomfortable.”
“I noticed.”
For once, Maya did not hide behind another joke.
“I was scared.”
David’s expression became serious.
“I know.”
“No, I mean really scared.”
She looked away.
“My entire life, whenever someone helped us, there was always something after.”
David remained silent.
Maya continued.
“A favor. A reminder. A sentence that started with ‘after everything I’ve done for you.’”
She gave a small, humorless laugh.
“So when you paid the hospital, part of me was grateful.”
“And the other part?”
“Was waiting for the bill.”
David’s hand fell slowly from her face.
“There isn’t one.”
“I know.”
She met his eyes again.
“I’m starting to know.”
That mattered more than forgiveness.
David understood that.
Trust was not something he could purchase in advance.
He could only earn it one ordinary decision at a time.
“So what happens now?” Maya asked.
David considered the question.
“I have absolutely no idea.”
She smiled.
“That might be the healthiest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Marcus would be very disappointed to hear that.”
“Marcus is usually right.”
“Don’t encourage him.”
Maya walked farther into the room.
She looked around the mansion that had terrified her the first night.
It seemed different now.
Or perhaps she was different.
The enormous windows were still there.
The furniture was still absurdly expensive.
The silence still carried through rooms large enough to hold entire families.
But the house no longer felt threatening.
It felt lonely.
And for the first time, Maya understood that David’s wealth had not protected him from loneliness.
It had simply allowed him to build a much larger place to hide inside it.
She turned.
“I want a real date.”
David frowned.
“We’ve had dinner.”
“No.”
“We literally went to a restaurant.”
“That was apology dinner.”
“What distinguishes apology dinner from real dinner?”
“Intent.”
David stared at her.
“That sounds made up.”
“It’s absolutely made up.”
Maya folded her arms.
“But I still want one.”
“Fine.”
“No private dining room.”
“Why?”
“No closing the restaurant.”
“I haven’t done that.”
“You thought about it.”
David said nothing.
Maya pointed at him.
“See?”
“What else?”
“No security standing ten feet away.”
“That one might be difficult.”
“Twenty feet.”
“Fifteen.”
“Deal.”
David paused.
“Are we negotiating a date?”
“You look happier now.”
“I like negotiations.”
“I know. That’s why I gave you one.”
She began walking toward the door.
David followed.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You just said you were staying.”
Maya looked over her shoulder.
“I meant emotionally, David.”
“Oh.”
She smiled.
“You thought I was moving in?”
“No.”
“That was a very fast answer.”
“I understood perfectly.”
“Sure.”
David opened the door for her.
Maya stopped beside him.
“And David?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t send Marcus to arrange the date.”
He looked offended.
“I can arrange a date.”
“Prove it.”
The next morning, Marcus entered David’s office and found him staring at his laptop.
Marcus placed a folder on the desk.
“Problem?”
“No.”
“Your face says problem.”
“My face always looks like this.”
“Exactly.”
David ignored him.
Marcus waited.
Finally, David said, “What do normal people do on dates?”
Marcus slowly sat down.
“I’m sorry?”
“Don’t make this difficult.”
“I need a moment.”
“Marcus.”
“I have worked for you for nine years.”
“I’m aware.”
“I have handled acquisitions, lawsuits, security problems, international negotiations, one attempted blackmail situation, and a board member who tried to bring a miniature horse into an annual meeting.”
David looked at him.
“The horse was registered as emotional support.”
“That does not improve the story.”
Marcus leaned back.
“And after all that, this may be the most unexpected question you’ve ever asked me.”
David closed the laptop.
“I asked what people do on dates.”
“People?”
“Normal people.”
Marcus smiled.
“You’re asking the wrong person.”
“Why?”
“Because I work for you.”
David looked irritated.
Marcus laughed.
“Take her somewhere she likes.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“What does Maya like?”
David opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
David frowned.
“She likes coffee.”
“Everyone likes coffee.”
“She hates my coffee.”
“That sounds more accurate.”
“She likes old bookstores.”
Marcus waited.
David continued.
“She likes walking when she’s thinking. She likes lemon pie but always says it’s too sweet and then finishes it. She wants to become a nurse. She hates people being late but is frequently late herself. She doesn’t like lilies because they remind her of hospitals.”
Marcus was quiet now.
David noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You have a face again.”
“I was just wondering when you learned all of that.”
David looked back at his computer.
“I listen.”
“Yes.”
Marcus stood.
“That appears to be the problem.”
The date happened Friday evening.
David picked Maya up himself.
No driver.
No Marcus.
No convoy of black vehicles.
Maya walked out of her apartment building and stopped when she saw him beside an ordinary dark sedan.
She looked around.
“Where’s the presidential motorcade?”
“Very funny.”
“Did Marcus let you drive alone?”
“I’m thirty-eight years old.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
David opened the passenger door.
Maya looked at him suspiciously.
“You planned this yourself?”
“Yes.”
“No assistant?”
“No.”
“No restaurant manager secretly threatened into giving us the best table?”
“No.”
“Should I be frightened?”
“Probably.”
She got in.
Twenty minutes later, David parked outside a bookstore.
Maya looked through the window.
Then at him.
“No.”
David frowned.
“What?”
“You remembered.”
“I remember things.”
“You remembered this?”
“You said you used to spend Saturday afternoons in bookstores when you were in nursing school.”
Maya’s expression softened.
“I said that once.”
“You also said the smell of old books makes people look more intelligent than they are.”
“That remains scientifically proven.”
They spent nearly an hour inside.
David discovered that Maya read the final page of novels before buying them.
He considered this a moral failure.
“That’s insane.”
“I need to know whether the emotional investment is worth it.”
“You’re destroying the story.”
“I’m protecting myself.”
David stared at her.
Maya stared back.
Then both of them realized the irony at exactly the same moment.
Maya smiled first.
“Okay.”
David shook his head.
“I’m not discussing this.”
“You should.”
“No.”
“You spent three years reading the last page before opening the book.”
“That metaphor is terrible.”
“It’s actually excellent.”
She bought a used anatomy textbook.
David noticed.
“You already have one.”
“It’s an older edition.”
“Then why buy it?”
Maya ran her fingers over the cover.
“Because I used to have this exact edition.”
“Used to?”
“I sold mine.”
David understood without asking why.
Medical bills.
Rent.
Groceries.
All the invisible calculations Maya had made while he had been spending more on wine than she earned in a week.
He reached for the book.
Maya immediately pulled it away.
“No.”
“I was going to carry it.”
“Oh.”
David looked at her.
“What did you think?”
“That you were going to buy it.”
“You already bought it.”
“Exactly.”
He smiled slightly.
“You’re impossible.”
“Financially independent.”
“You paid twelve dollars.”
“With my own twelve dollars.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
They left the bookstore and walked three blocks to a small Italian restaurant.
Maya stopped outside.
“You checked ownership?”
David sighed.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I own absolutely no percentage of this restaurant.”
“Good.”
“I do know the building owner.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Thank God.”
Dinner was simple.
No champagne.
No private room.
No waiter who knew David’s preferences before he spoke.
For the first time in years, David sat somewhere without controlling every variable.
He expected to hate it.
Instead, he watched Maya argue passionately that garlic bread should legally be considered a main course.
He decided he could tolerate uncertainty.
After dinner, they walked.
New York moved around them.
People passed without noticing that one of the city’s wealthiest men was walking beside a woman who had once accepted an invitation to his house because she desperately needed $80,000.
Maya slipped her hands into her coat pockets.
“What are you thinking?”
David looked at her.
“That I like this.”
“What?”
“Walking.”
She laughed.
“No, you don’t.”
“I’m doing it.”
“That’s not the same.”
He looked ahead.
“I like being with you.”
Maya stopped.
David took another step before realizing she was no longer beside him.
He turned.
“What?”
“You can’t just say things like that casually.”
“Why?”
“Because I need warning.”
David walked back toward her.
“Maya.”
“What?”
“I like being with you.”
“That was the exact same thing.”
“I know.”
“You’re terrible at warnings.”
He smiled.
She looked at him.
There was traffic behind them.
Voices.
Music from somewhere across the street.
A siren in the distance.
But the moment felt strangely private.
David raised his hand.
Then stopped before touching her.
Maya noticed.
Again, he was asking without words.
She moved closer.
“You can kiss me.”
David’s expression changed.
“Are you sure?”
“You ask that a lot now.”
“I’m trying to improve.”
“You’re very slow.”
“Maya.”
“Yes.”
He kissed her.
Carefully at first.
Almost too carefully.
Maya’s fingers caught the front of his coat.
David’s hand settled at her waist.
The kiss deepened for only a moment before he pulled back.
Maya stared at him.
“That was…”
David waited.
She smiled.
“Acceptable.”
He laughed.
“Acceptable?”
“Maybe slightly above average.”
“You’re lying.”
“Prove it.”
He kissed her again.
This time Maya laughed against his mouth.
And for one perfect minute, neither of them was thinking about money.
Or hospitals.
Or Victoria.
Or betrayal.
Or the enormous difference between their worlds.
But across the street, someone was watching.
A woman sat inside a black car.
Her face remained hidden behind the reflection on the glass.
Her phone was raised.
The camera clicked once.
Then again.
Victoria lowered the phone.
On the screen was a photograph of David kissing Maya.
She stared at it for a long time.
Then she sent it to someone.
The response arrived less than a minute later.
Is that her?
Victoria typed back.
Yes.
Another message appeared.
Then we know where to start.
Victoria looked through the window again.
David and Maya had already begun walking away.
Neither of them knew that the past had just taken a photograph of their future.
And this time, Victoria had not returned because she wanted David back.
She had returned because she needed something from him.
May you like
Something David had spent three years believing was buried.
Something worth far more than $80,000.
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