Prologue

He turned and scrutinized the scene he’d created on the rooftop of The Georgian. Strands of twinkling white lights crisscrossed overhead, creating both atmosphere and light. Even Mother Nature wouldn’t dare defy his expectation of perfection and provided a beautiful night with a full moon.

A dozen hightop tables were scattered around, covered by long white tablecloths, each holding a vase of light pink short-stem roses with sparkling gems at the base, setting a mood of elegance for the evening’s events. He plucked a stray petal from a centerpiece, his lip curling in irritation—no detail could be left to chance, not on a night like this. The rooftop glimmered like a stage, set for a production of his own design, each twinkling light and polished champagne flute a prop in his narrative of success.

Servers in black suits made their way through the small crowd, offering expensive appetizers and flutes of champagne. One stumbled and a tray of empty flutes tumbled to the ground. He frowned at the ineptness and started forward, fists clenching at his sides, but before he could take more than two steps, a broom and dustpan magically appeared. Within minutes the mess was gone.

Grayson looked at his watch, annoyance flickering across his face before he smoothed it again. Aribelle Swinton’s life was about to change, and she was late.

Trevor, his right-hand man, walked over. “She’ll be here, Grayson. She’d be crazy to not come. Anyway, I’ve got the…package,” he said with an exaggerated wink.

“Of course she’ll be here,” Grayson said dismissively. “And I’ll get that from you later.” Grayson nodded to the package. “Don’t lose it or heads will roll. Yours.”

“It’s safe with me.” Trevor tugged his bow tie and ambled toward the bar.

He looked at the gathering, there to celebrate his engagement. Fifty hand-chosen witnesses to recognize this next stage in his life. His family—mother and an aunt. His peers in the publishing industry, including a few competitors who needed to see, or be reminded of, exactly who Grayson was.

Grayson needed—well, wanted—a bride, and from all the women in New York, he’d chosen Aribelle. But she was late to her own engagement party. After today, she’d realize the importance of punctuality.

Movement off to his left caught his attention. The elevator doors opened and out stepped his beautiful Aribelle Swinton, soon to be Mrs. Grayson Plinth. He made his way to her, confidence growing with each step closer.

“Ah, fashionably late, I see,” he said, a smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Though I suppose beauty such as yours may excuse a certain…tardiness.” He lifted her left hand to his lips.

The shocked look on her face made him smile. She was in for an even bigger surprise before the night was done.

“My goodness, that’s quite the greeting,” she said.

Her flowing ivory dress almost looked bridal. Appropriate for the occasion, he thought with a smirk. Her shoulder length red hair had been left down but clipped away from her face with something sparkly. One day soon, those would be real diamonds in her hair. Her heels were high, putting her level with him. He certainly didn’t feel threatened by her height, but aesthetically, he preferred his women to be a few inches shorter than his own five-foot-ten height. Another lesson she’d learn soon.

“Let me introduce you around.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her to the other side of the patio, to his mother and aunt. “Mother, Aunt Judy, may I present Aribelle Swinton? Aribelle, this is my mother Jessica Park-Plinth and my aunt Judy Park.”

This moment was pivotal. The three most important women in his life meeting each other.

“Mrs. Park-Plinth, Ms. Park, it’s a pleasure to meet you both. I respect the publishing company your family has created.”

Grayson watched his mother’s reaction closely. Her approval was imperative.

She looked at Aribelle, no doubt assessing her worthiness. “You know of Park Publishing?” his mother asked finally.

“Well, of course. I work at Park.”

“Really?” Grayson’s mother looked at her more closely. “And what do you do?”

Grayson now realized he should have done more to prepare them to meet Aribelle.

Aribelle looked at Grayson with a questioning expression, then back to the two women. “Well…I work for Mr. Plinth. I’m part of his editing team.”

Grayson gently placed his hand on her back. “She’s being modest. Aribelle is my best editor. Everything she touches seems to turn to gold.”

His mother’s expression shifted slightly, an eyebrow raised. A good sign. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aribelle. I always appreciate meeting dedicated employees. I’m surprised we haven’t heard about you before tonight.”

Aribelle looked at Grayson, her brow knitted in confusion, then back to his mother. “I can’t imagine why you’d have. I prefer staying behind the scenes.”

Grayson avoided his mother’s confused eyes and cleared his throat. “Excuse us. I have a few others who I’d like Aribelle to meet.” With his hand still on her back, he quickly steered her away from his mother and aunt.

“I thought this was a work party?” Aribelle looked at him questioningly. “I don’t see anyone else from the office here?”

Ignoring her question, Grayson steered her to a group of men standing near the roofline. “Aribelle, I’d like you to meet Frank Gusman, Stephen McInnis, and Clay Trout. Gentlemen, may I introduce Ms. Aribelle Swinton.”

Frank stepped forward and shook her hand. “It’s a right pleasure to meet you, Ms. Swinton. You just let me know if this man doesn’t treat you right. I’d love to bring you over to my team.”

Aribelle’s laugh floated through the air. “Mr. Gusman, you run a tight ship at Hanover Press. It would be an honor to work for you one day.”

Grayson cleared his throat. “We’re not here for you to steal my best employee, Frank.”

A while later, after introducing Aribelle to everyone he needed to, Grayson knew it was time for the main event. He wove his way through the group to stand in the middle, snagging two champagne glasses from a passing waiter along the way.

“Aribelle, would you please join me for a moment?” Grayson’s voice was loud enough to gain the attention of everyone present. As she made her way to stand beside him, the group moved closer, forming a circle around them.

Looking around, Grayson sensed everything was perfect. He cleared his throat and turned to Aribelle.

“You’ve proven yourself to be capable, driven, and….well, you’re the most beautiful woman I know. All qualities I require in a partner,” he said, his voice rising to address the gathered crowd. “Together, we will be unstoppable.”

Aribelle’s polite smile faltered, her brows knitting as he spoke. She opened her mouth to interject, but he continued.

“I want to make all your dreams come true. I have built an incredible life. I have everything I want, everything I need.” He turned to Trevor, who was standing off to the side and gave him a nod. “Except one thing.”

Trevor reached into his pocket to pull out a small velvet box, then stepped forward. His foot struck the leg of a stool, and he lurched, the box escaping his clutch and sailing through the air.

He could hear a collective gasp from those gathered, but Grayson’s eyes never left the box. At the last second, his hand snaked up to catch it before it could fly past him.

“You’re so brilliant, sir—everyone will be talking about this for years,” Trevor, who was brushing off his pants, exclaimed.

Grayson smirked. “Thank you, Trevor.” He returned his attention to Aribelle and opened the box, showing her the stunning diamond ring he’d chosen. “Aribelle Swinton, will you marry me?”

The gathered group was silent, a few even had their phones out, recording the moment. It would be good to have this moment preserved, he thought.

Aribelle’s eyes widened and her brows furrowed deeper. “Excuse me?”

Ignoring the slight panic creeping into his brain, Grayson continued. “I have everything to give a woman. I have money, power, good looks. I’m offering all of that to you, Aribelle. Marry me.” This time it wasn’t a question, but a demand

Her pretty nose wrinkled, and she looked around. “Is this a prank?”

“Of course not. Why would I prank you?”

“I can’t imagine any other reason you’d think it appropriate to ask me to marry you. In the three years I’ve worked for you, we’ve barely spoken.”

“We’ve spoken. Plenty of times.” As much as he tried to keep defensiveness out of his tone, he could hear it.

“Mr. Plinth…Grayson,” she said, looking into his eyes. “We’ve never gone out before, not even for a quick drink after work. Why would you want to marry me?”

This he could handle. Of course she’d want to know why he chose her. “Of all the women in New York City, you are beautiful, smart, and let’s be honest, Aribelle, no one else can offer you what I can. You’d be a fool to say no.” He winked at her.

Aribelle paused, looking at him, her forehead scrunched up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Plinth, but I can only assume you’ve mistaken my ambition for affection. I can’t marry you, but I hope you find someone who values your…assets as much as you do.”

A ripple of whispers moved through the crowd, a few stifled chuckles escaping as Aribelle’s words landed.

Grayson’s jaw tightened, his polished smile cracking under the weight of their stares. His fingers curled around the velvet box, the edges biting into his palm.

This wasn’t how the story was supposed to end. Not his story.

He followed several steps behind her to the elevator. “You’ll regret this,” he hissed as the doors slid shut, his charm slipping like a poorly fitted mask. He watched as Frank Gusman stepped up to the elevator and pushed the down button. No doubt everyone would be following his lead. The show was over.

By morning, the hashtags were trending: #RejectedOnTheRooftop #PlinthProposalFail. His face, frozen in disbelief, was plastered across every gossip page.

And, of course, Aribelle was out of a job before she reached the lobby.