Accidentally Yours

Playing Pretend

Maya woke to a pounding headache and an unfamiliar ceiling. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating what was definitely not her modest apartment. She sat up slowly, finding herself still in yesterday's clothes but tucked into a king-sized bed with sheets that felt like clouds.

"Good morning, Ms. Chen."

She yelped, pulling the duvet up to her chin. A woman in her fifties stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed and holding a tray.

"Mr. Harrison asked me to ensure you were comfortable. I'm Mrs. Reynolds, his housekeeper." She set the tray on the bedside table – coffee, aspirin, and what looked like a fresh-pressed juice. "There's a change of clothes in the bathroom. The car will be ready in an hour to take you to your apartment."

"I... thank you." Maya's head throbbed. "Where exactly am I?"

"Mr. Harrison's penthouse. He took the guest room." Mrs. Reynolds's expression gave nothing away. "He had to leave early for meetings but asked me to give you this."

She handed Maya an envelope. Inside was a keycard, a business card with a private number scrawled on the back, and a note in elegant handwriting:

"Dinner tonight. 7 PM. We have appearances to maintain. The keycard is for emergencies - try not to propose to any other CEOs in the meantime. - E"

"There's also this." Mrs. Reynolds placed a tablet on the bed. "The morning papers. Mr. Harrison thought you might be interested."

Maya's stomach dropped as she saw the headlines:

"HARRISON'S VALENTINE SURPRISE: MYSTERY WOMAN CAPTURES CEO'S HEART" "LOVE IN THE FINANCIAL DISTRICT: POWER COUPLE'S SIDEWALK PROPOSAL" "ETHAN HARRISON OFF THE MARKET: WHO IS THE LUCKY BRIDE-TO-BE?"

Below the headlines were photos – surprisingly clear ones – of their sidewalk encounter. Her on one knee, him helping her up, their close embrace. She looked less drunk than she remembered, thank god, but the intimacy in the pictures was undeniable.

"Oh god." She scrolled through more headlines. "This is..."

"Exactly what Mr. Harrison wanted," Mrs. Reynolds finished, a knowing look in her eyes. "The press has been calling all morning. Mr. Harrison's PR team will handle everything, but you should prepare yourself for attention."

Maya nodded weakly, reaching for the coffee. As she sipped, she noticed her phone on the nightstand – plugged in and fully charged. Fifty-seven missed calls. Over a hundred text messages. And one email from her boss:

"Take the day off. We'll discuss your position on Monday."

"Mrs. Reynolds?" Maya called as the housekeeper turned to leave. "Did Mr. Harrison... did he say anything else this morning?"

The older woman's expression softened slightly. "Only that you might need these." She produced a shopping bag from Saks. "For your lunch meeting."

"My what?"

"With his sister. Noon at Le Bernardin." Mrs. Reynolds actually smiled at Maya's panic. "Don't worry, dear. Miss Harrison is much warmer than her brother. Usually."

An hour later, freshly showered and wearing what turned out to be a perfectly fitted Chanel dress (how did he know her size?), Maya sat in the back of a town car heading to her apartment. Her phone buzzed again – James, for the twentieth time. She declined the call.

Instead, she pulled up the news photos again. There was something about the way Ethan looked at her in them, something that seemed too perfect for a chance encounter...

Her phone lit up with an unknown number:

"Car will pick you up at 11:30. Claire can be intense, but she's on our side. Wear the sapphire earrings in the bag. They match your eyes. - E"

Before she could respond, another text:

"And yes, I knew your dress size. I know everything, remember?"

Maya stared at her phone, torn between intrigue and irritation. Another message appeared:

"By the way, you talk in your sleep. Something about my 'unfairly perfect jawline'?"

She groaned, dropping her head against the leather seat. "I hate you," she typed back.

"No, you don't. Not yet. Save that for month three. - E"

Despite herself, she smiled. Then another text came through – this one from James:

"Maya, please. We need to talk. I know Harrison. He's not who you think he is."

She was about to delete it when one more message appeared, this time from an unknown number:

"Hello, future sister-in-law. Hope you're ready for lunch. We have so much to discuss. - Claire Harrison"

Maya looked out the window at the passing city, at the newsstands displaying her impromptu proposal, at the life she'd had yesterday slipping away with each passing minute.

What had she gotten herself into?

The car pulled up to her building, where a small group of photographers was already gathering. As the driver opened her door, Maya took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. If she was going to play the role of Ethan Harrison's fiancée, she might as well play it well.

"Ms. Chen! Over here!" "How long have you and Mr. Harrison been dating?" "Was the proposal spontaneous?" "Any comment on James Porter?"

Maya channeled every romantic comedy she'd ever watched, letting a secretive smile play on her lips as she walked past them. Let them speculate. Let James see the photos. Let Ethan Harrison play whatever game he was playing.

She had three months to figure out the truth. Three months to guard her heart. Three months to prove she could play this game too.

As she reached her apartment, her phone buzzed one final time:

"One more thing - wear your hair up for lunch. Claire appreciates a good neck line. And so do I. - E"

Maya touched the back of her neck, feeling a blush creep up despite herself. Three months suddenly felt like a very long time indeed.