Seven years ago, Carter and I broke up because we were from two completely different worlds. Seven years later, I’m a corporate executive pulling in a million dollars a year. And Carter? After a devastating bankruptcy, he’s reduced to delivering takeout. Looking at the incredibly handsome man standing in front of me, I casually slid a bank card across the table. "Ten thousand a month. I'm keeping you." Looking thoroughly humiliated, Carter pocketed the card. The day after he moved into my penthouse, I accidentally overheard him on the phone: "I’m too busy. Don’t bother me with a tiny fifty-million-dollar project." 1 I never expected my reunion with Carter Hayes to be this dramatic. "Your delivery, ma'am." Carter was holding the paper bag with one hand, the impatient look on his face slowly fading. He narrowed his eyes, looking me up and down a few times before asking in disbelief, "Chloe?" I stared up at him, completely stunned. Seven years later, and he was still drop-dead gorgeous. Somehow, he made that bright neon delivery jacket look like a piece of high-end runway couture on his broad shoulders and long legs. Earlier this year, I heard some college alumni gossiping that Carter’s family had gone bankrupt. I hadn't paid much attention to it at the time. A starving camel is still bigger than a horse, as they say. No matter how bad things got for the Hayes family, they’d still be miles ahead of normal people like us. It wasn't my place to pity him. But I never imagined he’d be reduced to delivering food. He graduated from an Ivy League school. He had the face of a supermodel. He could get any job in the world—so why this? Carter, how have you been all these years? Are you married? Do you have kids? A thousand questions swirled in my head, but what actually came out of my mouth was: "You're late." Carter froze, then let out a soft laugh, his eyes curving into familiar crescents. "Chloe Adams. It’s been years, and you’re still as ruthless as ever." I just looked at him in silence. I got it. I understood completely. The golden boy had fallen from grace, only to be caught at his absolute lowest by his ex-girlfriend. Aside from using humor to deflect the crushing awkwardness, what else could he do? 2 "You have an order running late. Please deliver immediately." The automated voice from the phone clipped to his chest shattered my thoughts. Frowning, he pulled out his phone and ruthlessly powered it off. I was shocked by his reckless indifference. "I heard you get penalized for late deliveries. You’re going to lose a lot of money doing that. How are you going to feed your wife and kids?" Carter casually shoved the phone into his pocket. "I only have to feed myself. Nobody else is starving." Oh. So he was still single. My eyes slowly drifted down from his face, eventually landing on his stomach. After all these years, were those abs still as perfectly sculpted as before? Last month, I went to a holistic wellness clinic because my hormones were a wreck. The doctor told me I needed a boyfriend. He said my stress levels were through the roof from being single too long. He told me that if I couldn't find a man, I should at least spend time looking at handsome guys to boost my serotonin. Well, look what the universe dragged in. "Chloe, you're drooling." I panicked and scrubbed at the corner of my mouth with my sleeve, only to realize he was messing with me. Watching my flustered, embarrassed reaction, his chest rumbled with laughter until tears literally formed in his eyes. "Chloe, you're adorable." Adorable? Adorable my foot! Humiliation flared into anger, and suddenly, all the bitter memories of our toxic breakup came rushing back. 3 Carter and I were college sweethearts. He kept a low profile on campus. He never flashed his wealth. It wasn't until right before graduation that I realized his family was astronomically rich. He had invited me to his family's estate for dinner. I had spent months of my internship salary to buy what I thought were thoughtful, premium gifts. His mother took one look, tossed them to the housekeeper, and sneered that not even their staff would eat such low-grade trash. She told the maid to donate it to some poor relatives in the country. Then, Carter’s sister pulled out a photograph and informed me that their family was arranging a marriage for him. In two months, the gorgeous heiress in the photo would be his fiancée. "Don't worry, my brother is very generous," his sister had smirked. "He’ll give you a nice little severance package before he dumps you." I was young back then. I had nothing to my name except my fragile pride and self-esteem. By the time Carter chased me out the door, I was already gone. I blocked his number and deleted him from my life. After the breakup, I went through the darkest period of my life. My best friend couldn't stand seeing me cry every day, so she went to confront Carter. But he was ice-cold. He told her he had misjudged me. That killed whatever hope I had left. I poured every ounce of my soul into my career. Men will betray you, but work won't. The time and energy you put into your career always pays off. Case in point: my life right now. Remembering how his family humiliated me made my blood boil. Anger fueled my audacity. I turned around, marched into my apartment, and grabbed a pristine black card from my designer bag. I held it out to him, my chin raised in absolute arrogance. "Carter, running deliveries all day probably barely pays the rent, right?" "Why don't you work for me? I'll pay you ten thousand dollars a month. What do you say?" 4 Carter didn't say a word. He just stared at my manicured fingers holding the card. Just as my arm was starting to ache, he lowered his head and gave a response so soft I almost missed it. "Okay." Seeing him look so defeated, so fragile—like a broken piece of glass—made my own heart crack a little. Ten thousand! That was ten thousand dollars a month! I only wanted to insult him! Why did he agree?! Wasn't he supposed to slap the card away, quote some alpha-male movie line about earning his way back to the top, and storm off?! God knows what I sacrificed to hit a million-dollar salary. And that was before taxes. After the IRS, 401k, and insurance took their cut, I was taking home maybe fifty thousand a month. Giving him ten grand was a massive hit! My fingers were trembling slightly. Carter tried to slide the card from my grip, failing three times because I was holding on so tight. "Chloe, do you actually not have the money?" He looked amused, the corners of his perfectly sculpted lips curling into a mocking smirk. I really wanted to admit I was just trying to flex. But my ego absolutely refused. I let go of the card and tossed my hair over my shoulder. "Do a good job. If you serve me well, I'll double your salary." Carter walked away with my card, wearing the most complicated expression I had ever seen. He didn't just take my card. He took my peace of mind. I made a vow. No matter how well he performed, I was going to find a flaw. In exactly one month, I would fire him for "poor service." That way, I only lose ten grand. Yeah, that’s manageable. Not too bad. 5 "Where is he?!" "Where are you hiding him?!" My best friend, Zoe, burst into my apartment wearing fuzzy pajama pants, her hair a bird's nest, and a sheet mask still plastered to her face. I put my phone down and rolled my eyes. "You got here fast." I had literally texted her about Carter five minutes ago. She lived across town. It was a twenty-minute drive with zero traffic. "Stop stalling, where's the eye candy?!" "He left. He's moving in tomorrow night." Zoe hopped over to me like an overcaffeinated bunny and wiggled her eyebrows. "So, how are you going to humiliate him? Handcuffs? Whips? Blindfolds?" "Maybe a French maid outfit for men?" A male maid outfit? What did that even look like? Just a tiny apron over an eight-pack of abs? Picturing Carter’s normally cold, untouchable face while wearing nothing but a frilly apron made my entire body flush. A sudden, familiar cramp hit my lower stomach. I shoved Zoe’s masked face away and sprinted for the bathroom. A long moment later, I groaned from behind the door. "Zoe... I got my period." "I don't think I have any tampons left, can you run to the drugstore?" Zoe poked her head into the doorway, her eyes wide with awe. "Oh my god." "If I recall correctly, your stress was so bad you haven't had a period in two months, right?" "The doctors couldn't fix your hormones, but one look at Carter Hayes and the dam breaks?! Wild!" I grabbed a roll of toilet paper and lobbed it at her head. "Get out!" 6 The doorbell woke me up at the crack of dawn. I stood at the door in my oversized t-shirt, staring dumbfounded at a row of massive luxury suitcases. Carter raised an eyebrow and flashed me a dazzling smile. "Good morning, sugar mama." I grabbed his wrist, staring in horror at the incredibly expensive Patek Philippe on his arm. "It's six in the morning, dude!" "This watch is a fake, a really good replica—" We spoke at the exact same time. Carter pulled his wrist back, smoothly took off the watch, and stuffed it into his pocket. "Didn't you say my salary would double if I performed well? I'm just showing initiative." Despicable! Using my own words against me! Carter pushed his luggage inside and casually strolled straight into my master bedroom. When I realized he was about to start hanging his clothes in my closet, I lunged forward. "What do you think you're doing?" He blinked at me, the picture of innocence. "Didn't you say I was supposed to serve you?" "If we don't sleep in the same bed, how am I supposed to serve you?" He leaned down and whispered those last few words right in my ear, his voice dropping an octave into a gravelly purr. "Y-You—" My face burned. I couldn't believe how low he had sunk. To make a quick buck, he was actually trying to seduce me! Life must have been incredibly hard on him these past few years. The untouchable prince finally learned the value of a dollar. "Your room is down the hall. I prefer sleeping alone." Carter grabbed his suitcases and walked away, his broad back looking distinctly disappointed. Disappointed? I'm definitely overthinking this. 7 Carter was very self-aware. He unpacked his things and immediately went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Leaning against the doorframe, watching his broad shoulders move around the kitchen, four words popped into my head: Peace and quiet. For years, I had been married to my job, working insane overtime hours. Whenever I came home, the apartment always felt cold and sterile. Sometimes, when I was dead on my feet, I’d fantasize about coming home to someone having a hot meal waiting for me. I didn't expect to achieve that dream so quickly. Even if the price tag was a bit steep. Thinking about that $10,000 monthly retainer made my heart bleed. I made up my mind: No matter how good the food was, I was going to tell him it tasted like garbage! "Stop staring at me and go wash your face." Carter stepped out of the kitchen and nudged me toward the bathroom. "Wait, I think I smell something burning." He grabbed my chin, gently turning my head forward, his expression deadpan. "That's just your imagination." It was definitely my imagination. When I came out dressed for work, I stared in shock at the absolute feast spread across my dining table. Perfectly poached eggs benedict, thick-cut bacon, fluffy buttermilk pancakes, avocado toast with microgreens, fresh fruit parfaits, and steaming artisan coffee. A five-star hotel buffet couldn't compete with this. "Y-You made all this?" He nodded, pulling out a chair for me like a gentleman. "Taste it." I took a bite of the eggs benedict. The hollandaise was incredibly rich, the egg yolk perfectly runny, and the English muffin toasted to a crisp perfection. One word: Divine! "It's alright. A bit basic, but it's edible." 8 The light in Carter’s eyes died. He lowered his gaze, looking genuinely hurt, his voice soft. "Really? I guess I need to work harder." I aggressively shoved a pancake into my mouth so I wouldn't accidentally blurt out a compliment to comfort him. Ten thousand dollars! Hold the line, Chloe! Usually, my appetite was nonexistent during this time of the month. But the food was so good I ate until I was stuffed, patting my stomach happily as I grabbed my purse for work. Before I left, I made sure to order him to deep-clean the apartment. This is what happens when you grow up poor. You starve yourself before a buffet to get your money's worth. If I was paying for a kept man, he was going to be my chef, maid, driver, bodyguard, and eye candy combined. Every penny had to be maximized! Carter nodded obediently, walking me to the door like he didn't want me to leave. "Come home early, Chloe. I'll be waiting for you." He sounded like a devoted 1950s housewife. I practically skipped to the elevator, feeling energized for the workday. Just as the doors opened, I patted my pocket and realized I left my phone on the counter. I hurried back, pushed the front door open, and heard Carter on a phone call. "I’m too busy. Don’t bother me with a tiny fifty-million-dollar project." He opened the door wider as he spoke, catching me mid-snoop, my ear practically pressed against the air. We locked eyes. The silence was deafening. To break the awkwardness, I decided to go on the offensive. "Ooooh, a tiny fifty-million-dollar project! Big shot!" Carter slowly lowered his phone, looking at me with an expression that screamed 'I don't even know where to begin.' I snatched my phone off the entryway table and waved at him. "Off to work! Bye, Mr. Fifty Million!" I guess when rich people go broke, they cope by playing pretend. Zoe and I used to play the same game when we were broke college kids. Thinking about Carter’s flustered face put me in an amazing mood.
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