She Sat At The Wrong Table On A Blind Date — But The Billionaire Refused To Let Her Leave
Honey Laced with Poison
The lounge was exactly what she’d expected: leather furniture, a fully stocked bar, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city.
What she hadn’t expected was the woman already there, seated elegantly on the sofa with a glass of champagne. She was everything Grace wasn’t—tall, blonde, wearing a red dress that probably cost more than Grace’s car.
She looked up when Grace entered, and her perfectly painted lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“You must be the teacher,”
she said, her voice like honey laced with poison.
“I’m Victoria.”
Grace’s stomach dropped.
“Of course. Of course Victoria would be here.”
“I didn’t realize anyone else was waiting,”
Grace said carefully.
“Oh, I’m not waiting. I’m on the board now. Daddy bought me a seat last month.”
Victoria stood, moving with predatory grace.
“When I heard about Richard’s latest disaster, I simply had to come offer my support. Marcus and I always handled his father best together.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
Victoria laughed, a tinkling sound that set Grace’s teeth on edge.
“Oh, you’re delightful. So earnest, so genuine. Marcus always did have a weakness for strays.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t take it personally, darling. Marcus goes through these phases—his salvation complex, I call it. He finds someone who needs rescuing, throws himself into fixing their problems, and then gets bored once the challenge is gone.”
Victoria sipped her champagne.
“Last year, it was that disaster of a restaurant he bought for that chef. Before that, the community center in Queens. And now, a teacher from Brooklyn who probably can’t even afford the bread at Leernarda.”
Grace felt heat rise in her cheeks, but she kept her voice steady.
“You seem to know a lot about Marcus’s recent activities for an ex-girlfriend.”
“Ex?”
Victoria’s smile widened.
“Is that what he told you? How precious. Marcus and I are inevitable, darling. We break up, we make up, but we always find our way back. It’s been that way for 5 years.”
“Then why aren’t you in there helping him now?”
For the first time, Victoria’s composure cracked slightly.
“He’s being stubborn. But he’ll come around; he always does when he realizes these little experiments of his don’t work. You can’t build a relationship on fantasy, and that’s what you are to him—a fantasy of normalcy, of simplicity.”
She continued:
“But Marcus Sterling doesn’t get simple. His world doesn’t allow it.”
Before Grace could respond, the conference room doors burst open. Marcus’s father stumbled out, his face flushed with anger and alcohol.
“This isn’t over!”
he was shouting.
“You think you can just cut me out? I made you!”
Marcus followed, his expression carved from stone.
“You’re drunk, Dad. James will take you home.”
“I don’t need your driver! I don’t need your help! I don’t need—”
Richard Sterling stopped mid-rant when he saw Victoria. His entire demeanor changed, a sloppy smile replacing the anger.
“Victoria, beautiful as ever. Maybe you can talk sense into my son.”
“Hello, Richard,”
Victoria purred, moving to kiss his cheek.
“You’re looking well.”
It was such an obvious lie that Grace almost laughed. Richard Sterling looked terrible—disheveled, unsteady, a shadow of what he must have once been.
Truth and Experiments
Marcus’s eyes found Grace across the room, and something shifted in his expression. He moved past his father and Victoria without a word, going straight to her.
“We’re leaving,”
he said quietly.
“Marcus, don’t be rude,”
Victoria called out.
“We were just getting to know each other, your new friend and I.”
“Actually,”
Grace said, finding her voice:
“I was just leaving anyway. It’s late and I have school tomorrow.”
“No,”
Marcus said firmly, then louder, addressing the room:
“Victoria, what are you doing here?”
“Board business, darling. Someone has to protect our interests when Richard makes these little mistakes.”
“Our interests?”
Marcus’s voice was dangerously quiet.
“You have a 2% stake that your father bought. That doesn’t make you family.”
“Doesn’t it?”
She moved closer to him, her hand reaching for his arm.
“5 years, Marcus. 5 years of history. You can’t just erase because you’re having a midlife crisis.”
“I’m 32.”
“And acting like you’re 20. Chasing after teachers and building gardens.”
She shot a look at Grace.
“Oh yes, I know about your little rooftop project. How much money have you wasted on those?”
“They’re not waste,”
Grace said suddenly, surprising everyone, including herself.
“They’re gifts. Anonymous gifts to the city, to people who need beauty in their lives but might never have access to it otherwise.”
Victoria laughed.
“How wonderfully naive. Marcus, she’s absolutely precious. Where did you find her?”
“She found me,”
Marcus said, his eyes never leaving Grace’s face.
“And in 3 hours, she’s shown me more truth than you did in 5 years.”
The room went silent. Richard Sterling sank into a chair, suddenly looking every one of his 68 years.
Victoria’s perfect mask finally cracked completely, showing real emotion: anger, hurt, disbelief.
“You’re making a mistake,”
she said coldly.
“When this little experiment fails—and it will fail—don’t expect me to be waiting.”
“I won’t,”
Marcus said simply.
“James, please escort Miss Hartley and my father out. Make sure they both get home safely.”
“You can’t just dismiss me!”
Richard protested, but he was already being gently guided toward the elevator by the patient driver. Victoria left with her head high, but Grace saw her hands shaking as the elevator doors closed.
The building felt suddenly, blessedly quiet. Marcus turned to Grace, and for the first time all night, he looked uncertain.
“I’m sorry again. This isn’t—I wanted tonight to be perfect.”
“Perfect is overrated,”
Grace said.
“Real is better.”
He moved toward her slowly, as if afraid she might run.
“You’re still here.”
“I’m still here,”
she confirmed, though I’m not sure why I am.
He took her hands, and Grace was surprised to find his were trembling slightly.
“You’re here because you’re brave enough to see past the mess. Because you understand that broken doesn’t mean worthless.”
“Is that what you think you are? Broken?”
“Aren’t I? My father’s an alcoholic who sabotages our business every time he touches it. My ex-girlfriend has literally bought her way into my company to stay close. I haven’t had a real relationship in 2 years because everyone wants Marcus Sterling the billionaire, not Marcus the man who just wants to build gardens and maybe occasionally have dinner with someone who thanks waitresses.”
Grace squeezed his hands.
“You’re not broken. You’re human. There’s a difference.”
“How are you real?”
he asked wonderingly.
“How did you walk into that restaurant tonight, sit at the wrong table, and somehow become the rightest thing in my life? Marcus, I know it’s too fast. I know I’m probably scaring you with all this intensity. But Grace, I’ve spent 2 years feeling nothing. Going through the motions. Building an empire I inherited but never chose. Then you smiled at me over a menu you couldn’t afford and suddenly I remembered what it felt like to want something just for myself.”
