She Sat At The Wrong Table On A Blind Date — But The Billionaire Refused To Let Her Leave
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.”
A Date for Tomorrow
Grace’s heart was racing. Everything about this was insane—the speed, the intensity, the sheer impossibility of their worlds meshing.
But standing there in that empty office with the city sprawling beneath them and Marcus Sterling looking at her like she was his salvation, she felt something she hadn’t felt since her grandparents died. She felt like she belonged somewhere, with someone.
“I have to be at school at 7:30,”
she said. Marcus blinked at the apparent non-sequitur.
“Okay?”
“So if you’re going to drive me home, we should probably leave now. It’s already past midnight.”
Hope dawned in his eyes.
“You’ll let me drive you home?”
“On one condition.”
“Anything.”
“No more surprises tonight. No more exes, no more family drama, no more midnight emergencies. Just drive me home like a normal date would end.”
Marcus laughed, and it transformed his face completely.
“Grace Mitchell, nothing about tonight has been normal.”
“No,”
she agreed.
“But maybe that’s okay. Maybe normal is overrated too.”
As they walked to the elevator, Marcus’s hand found hers, natural as breathing.
“Can I ask you something?”
“After everything tonight, you think there’s something off-limits?”
“Would you really have been happy with Brian from table 12?”
Grace thought about it seriously.
“Probably not. Jennifer means well, but she doesn’t really see me. She sees a single teacher approaching 30 who should want a stable, boring accountant because that’s what makes sense on paper.”
“And what do you want?”
The elevator doors opened to the parking garage, where Marcus’s personal car—a surprisingly modest Tesla—was waiting.
“I want Sunday mornings that aren’t rushed. I want someone who understands why I spend my own money on school supplies. I want laughter that comes from somewhere real, not just politeness.”
She paused as he opened her door for her.
“I want someone who builds secret gardens just because his mother drew them on a napkin.”
Marcus went very still. Then he was kissing her again, deeper this time, with a desperation that spoke of loneliness finally ending. When they broke apart, both were breathing hard.
“I know we just met,”
he said against her lips.
“I know this is crazy.”
“Completely crazy,”
she agreed.
“But I want to see you again tomorrow. Every day. I want to send your kids on those trips you dreamed about. I want to fix your classroom ceiling. I want to show you every garden I’ve ever built. I want—”
Grace silenced him with another kiss.
“One day at a time, Marcus. Let’s start with driving me home.”
