After Ricardo left, Maya stood on her balcony. She was looking out at the ocean and trying to process the sheer absurdity of her situation. Below, the resort sprawled like a small city dedicated entirely to pleasure. Pools that glowed like jewels.Restaurants with names she couldn't pronounce. Staff members who moved with choreographed precision.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Jessica.
*How's paradise?*
Maya typed back. *I think I'm having an out-of-body experience. The bathroom has a TV. Who watches TV in the bathroom? *
*Rich people. Take pictures of everything. I need to live vicariously through your luxury.*
*Already on it. Also, there's a really attractive man staying on my floor. He looks like he could buy and sell small countries.*
*Details! Is he single? Does he have a yacht? *
*I don't know, but he smells like money and danger.*
*My two favorite scents. Go talk to him.*
*Right. Because that's what I do. Walk up to millionaires and say, 'Hey, want to hang out with someone who considers Olive Garden fancy dining?'*
*Exactly. You're on vacation.Be brave.*
Maya looked down at her outfit. A sundress from Target that she'd thought was cute until she'd seen the other guests' wardrobes.
"Be brave." She muttered to herself. She changed into her best dress. Still Target, but black and therefore more sophisticated. She applied enough makeup to feel like she belonged.
Maya headed downstairs to the main restaurant. The dining room looked like it had been designed by someone who thought subtlety was for poor people. Crystal chandeliers. White tablecloths. Waiters who moved like ballet dancers.
Maya approached the hostess. The woman looked like she'd stepped off a magazine cover. "Table for one, please." "Of course. Would you prefer the terrace or the main dining room?"
"Wherever you put people who are definitely not supposed to be here but are trying to blend in." The hostess smiled. "The terrace has a lovely view."
Maya was led to a table that overlooked the ocean. The sunset was doing its best impression of a painting.
She'd just ordered something called "pan-seared local catch with citrus reduction" when a familiar voice spoke behind her.
"Excuse me, but aren't you the woman from the elevator?"
Maya turned to find Mr. Expensive standing beside her table. He was looking even more devastating in the golden light.
"That's me. Professional elevator rider and amateur rich person impersonator."
He smiled, and Maya felt her heart do something acrobatic.
"Would you mind if I joined you? I'm dining alone as well. The hostess mentioned you might appreciate the company."
"The hostess said that?"
"I may have mentioned that the beautiful woman from the elevator looked like she could use a dinner companion."
Maya blinked. "Did you just call me beautiful?"
"I did. Was that too forward?"
"No, but it was definitely too accurate for my ego to handle safely."
He extended his hand. "I'm Alexandre. Alexandre Dubois."
"Maya Chen.Professional winner of contests I didn't enter."
"A woman of mystery."
"A woman of unemployment, but mystery sounds better."
He sat down across from her. Maya realized she was in serious trouble. Not just because he was gorgeous and charming. But because he looked at her like she was the most interesting thing in the room.
"So, what brings you to paradise, Alexandre Dubois?"
"A change of scenery. And you?"
"Dumb luck and a suspicious amount of free champagne."
Neither of them noticed the men watching from the bar. The way one of them spoke quietly into his phone.
Neither of them saw the subtle hand signals. The way the staff's choreographed movements had taken on a different pattern.
All they saw was each other. The candlelight. The way the world seemed to narrow to just this table. The restaurant slowly emptied around them.
By the time Maya returned to her suite, it was almost midnight.
Her cheeks ached from smiling and her head was spinning. Not just from the wine but from how easily hours had vanished at dinner.
"Best night ever." She whispered to her empty room.
She had no idea this would be the last ordinary night she'd remember for a long time.
Maya woke up. Her phone was buzzing on the nightstand. The sound felt like ice picks in her skull.
When she tried to open her eyes, the world tilted sideways like a wild carnival ride.
"What the hell?" She groaned, her voice rough.
The buzzing stopped, then started again. Maya reached for the phone. Her hand shaking. Almost dropped it.
She saw the time: 2:47 PM. "That can't be right." She whispered, squinting at the screen. The last thing she remembered was saying goodnight to Alexandre around midnight.
Now, somehow, it was nearly three in the afternoon. The world had leapt forward without her. She sat up abruptly and regretted it as the room spun. Her mouth tasted like a garbage can. Her head felt squeezed in a vice.
"Food poisoning." She muttered, trying to make sense of the missing fourteen hours. "Has to be food poisoning." But deep down, she knew that wasn't right. Food poisoning didn't erase time. It didn't leave you feeling like you'd been hit by a truck.
Maya stumbled to the bathroom. She saw herself in the mirror. Her makeup was smudged. Her hair was messy. There was a bruise on her shoulder that hadn't been there yesterday.
"What the hell happened to me?" She turned on the shower, letting the hot water wash away the fog in her brain. Slowly, fragments began to surface.
Alexandre's smile across the dinner table. The way he'd walked her back to her suite. The champagne that had been waiting in her room when she returned.
The champagne.
Maya's blood ran cold as she remembered the bottle on ice.
The note that had read "Compliments of the management."
She'd been so happy. So giddy from the perfect evening, that she'd poured herself a glass before bed.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid." She whispered, pressing her forehead against the cool shower tiles.