Curiosity’s Price

Chapter 5- Girls, Dogs, and Distractions

The first sound I heard that morning wasn’t my alarm. It was Max’s tail thumping against the hardwood floor like a drumline.

I cracked one eye open to find him sitting right beside my bed, head c****d, ears perked. His leash dangled from his mouth like a neon-bright demand.

“You’re relentless,” I mumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

He whined softly, then pawed the edge of the mattress for emphasis. I groaned, rolled over, and stared at the clock. 7:15. On my one day off.

But Max’s brown eyes were impossible to say no to, the kind that looked like melted chocolate with streaks of sunshine in them. He’d been with me three years now—rescued from a shelter when I was at my lowest, scraping rent and wondering how the hell I was going to keep going. I didn’t save him; he saved me. And judging from the determined wag of his tail now, he had no plans of letting me waste the day in bed.

“Fine,” I sighed, dragging myself up. “Walk time. But only because you’re cute.”

At the word walk, his whole body wiggled like a loose spring. I barely had time to tug on leggings and a hoodie before he was practically dragging me out the door, down the cracked steps of our apartment building, into the crisp morning air.

The city was still stretching itself awake. Delivery trucks rumbled down the avenue, the corner bodega was restocking crates of oranges, and a handful of joggers pounded past with earbuds in. The sky was painted a hazy pink, the kind of soft light that made everything—graffiti walls, dented mailboxes, even the potholes—look a little gentler.

Max trotted proudly beside me, nose sniffing at every lamppost like each one held a new story. I let him lead, my hands tucked into my hoodie, trying to shake off the leftover unease from yesterday.

Adrian Kane hadn’t texted. Hadn’t called. Not that I’d expected him to. But even without his presence, his words haunted me. See you soon, Maya.

I tightened Max’s leash as he tried to dart after a pigeon. “Don’t look at me like that,” I muttered to him. “It’s not like I’m obsessed or anything.”

He barked once, sharp and amused, like he didn’t believe me either.

…

We looped around the block, pausing at our usual coffee cart. The barista, Tony, knew me well enough by now to have my order halfway done by the time I reached the window.

“Morning, Maya. The usual?” he asked, his thick Bronx accent rolling over the words.

“Please,” I said, fishing out a crumpled five-dollar bill.

“And something for the prince?” Tony leaned over the counter to grin at Max, who wagged so hard I thought his tail might fly off.

“You spoil him,” I said as Tony produced a dog biscuit.

“Yeah, well, he’s better company than half my customers.”

Max crunched happily on his treat while I sipped the first blessed hit of caffeine. Warmth slid through my chest, settling the buzzing nerves that had lived there since Adrian’s visit to the boutique.

Maybe today would be normal. Just me, Max, and a coffee in the cool morning air. No billionaires. No cryptic warnings. Just… life.

…

By noon, Lena was banging on my apartment door like the building was on fire.

“Maya!” she yelled. “If you don’t open this door in the next ten seconds, I’m using my spare key and raiding your fridge.”

I laughed, balancing Max on my hip as I unlocked the door. He wriggled free and bounded straight into her arms.

“Maxie!” she squealed, crouching down to kiss the top of his head. “My favorite boy in the world. Don’t tell your mom.”

“Trust me,” I said, stepping aside to let her in, “he already knows.”

Lena breezed inside like she owned the place. She was the kind of friend who filled every room with noise and color—curly hair dyed a different shade every month (currently electric purple), chunky sneakers, and a denim jacket covered in enamel pins. Where I was cautious and quiet, Lena was pure chaos wrapped in eyeliner and lip gloss.

She plopped onto my couch, Max immediately curling into her lap. “So,” she said, eyeing me like she could see straight through my hoodie. “You gonna tell me why you sound like a ghost every time I call, or do I have to drag it out of you?”

I froze mid-step. “I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her eyebrow arched. “Maya. You always over-stir your coffee when you’re stressed. You hung up on me twice this week. And you just said I don’t know what you’re talking about, which is literally your guilty tell.”

Max woofed in agreement. Traitor.

I sank onto the armchair across from her, tucking my knees to my chest. “It’s nothing. Just work stuff. Helena being Helena.”

“Lies,” Lena sang. “Spill. Who is he?”

My head snapped up. “What?!”

Her grin widened like a cat who’d cornered a mouse. “See? I knew it. Your eyes just did the deer in headlights thing. So, who’s the mystery man? Tall, dark, and broody? Or tall, blond, and disaster?”

Heat crawled up my neck. I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

She gasped. “Oh my God. You’re not denying it. You really met someone.”

“It’s not like that,” I said quickly. “He’s… complicated.”

“Complicated hot?” she teased. “Or complicated like—oops, he’s married, run for the hills?”

I buried my face in my hands. “Can we not?”

She let me sit there for a second before her voice softened. “Hey. I’m just messing with you. You don’t have to tell me anything until you’re ready. Just… don’t keep everything bottled up, okay? You do that too much.”

I peeked at her through my fingers. She was still grinning, but her eyes were kind. Genuine. Lena might’ve lived for drama, but when it came to me, she always knew when to ease off.

I exhaled. “Thanks. Really. I’ll tell you someday. Just… not yet.”

“Fine,” she said, leaning back. “But I’m holding you to that.”

…

We spent the afternoon in the lazy way only best friends can. Ordering greasy takeout. Picking apart bad reality TV. Taking turns tossing a ball for Max until he collapsed in a happy heap at our feet.

For a few hours, I forgot about Adrian Kane entirely.

Until Helena called.

“My star employee!” she boomed through the phone speaker. “Do you have any idea what people are saying? Adrian Kane. In my shop. Wearing my suit!”

I groaned. Lena mouthed who’s Adrian Kane? at me, but I waved her off.

“I’m serious, Maya,” Helena continued. “This is the kind of publicity we dream about. If he comes back, you treat him like royalty. Understood?”

“Yes, Helena,” I said, the words automatic.

She hung up without so much as a goodbye.

Lena pounced the second I set my phone down. “Okay, that sounded like a big deal. Who’s Adrian Kane, and why is Helena losing her mind?”

I reached for my soda, stalling. “Nobody. Just… some guy who bought a suit.”

Lena narrowed her eyes. “Maya.”

Max barked again, startling us both. He bounded into my lap, tail wagging wildly, like he’d just decided to rescue me from interrogation.

I kissed his head, grateful for the interruption. “See? Even Max says we should change the subject.”

Lena groaned but let it go—for now.

…

By evening, the apartment was quiet again. Lena had left, promising she’d drag the truth out of me eventually. Max was curled up beside me, snoring softly, his paws twitching in some dream-chase.

I stroked his fur, letting the repetitive motion ground me. He stretched, sighed, and pressed closer, warm and solid.

“You’re the only boy I need, you know that?” I whispered.

His tail thumped in his sleep.

For the first time all day, I smiled.

Maybe Adrian Kane could haunt the corners of my mind all he wanted. But tonight, it was just me, my dog, and the comfort of knowing that, at least for a little while, my world was still my own.