Chapter 1 -- You Can Just Say He's Boring The bar was one of those many places in New York City that tried to make people feel important. Everything glowed - gold-rimmed glasses, candlelight flickering through cut crystal, the faint, polished gleam of champagne-colored marble catching light from a hundred subtle sources. Conversation drifted like perfume - low, intimate, and restrained - the sound of people who wanted to...

CHAPTER 3 - COLLISION The Calridge Group meeting room was sharp. It was all glass and reflection. A long table, like a runway for ideas, was surrounded by silent chairs that looked like they had opinions. The New York skyline glimmered behind it all, the sun just beginning to tip into afternoon. Mira sat alone at the head of the table. Her posture was relaxed, but her presence filled the room. Slate-gray silk draped perfe...

CHAPTER 6: THE DATE The next morning, a soft hum filtered through the Nudge Engine loft, and light poured in through the high windows, casting tangled shadows across Harper’s desk. She sat with her chin in her hand, glasses slipping down her nose, eyes unfocused on a spreadsheet she hadn’t touched in twenty minutes. Her fingers tapped absently at the keyboard, not typing, just fidgeting. There was a subtle glow to her; it...

CHAPTER 7: AFTERGLOW Harper stirred slowly, the sheets twisted around one of her ankles like a careless ribbon. Sunlight pushed through the tall windows, pooling gold across the worn floorboards and the half-dead jungle of her plants. A sock hung off one leafy stem and her desk was a quiet war zone of empty mugs, scribbled notebooks, and a single spoon glued to a napkin by something suspicious. She groaned and rolled over...

CHAPTER 9: MIRA'S APARTMENT Mira’s apartment glowed low and deliberate. Sconces spilled amber light across the walls, while concealed lamps near the wide window cast a soft, wavering warmth that made the shadows move like breath. The air was scented with jasmine and sandalwood, and anchored by something rich and floral Harper couldn't name. In one corner, the curve of a grand piano caught the light, its lacquered surface...