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Inspired by After Dark
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by Willa Bishop
The rooftop bar is supposed to be Maeve’s sanctuary — rain-slicked and anonymous, twelve floors above the charity gala and every corporate disaster that came before it. Then a misplaced shearling coat sends her underground, into the humming executive corridor of an After Dark suite hotel at exactly 2:17 a.m., where a frazzled assistant shoves a cream-colored packet into her hands and changes everything.
The contract already has her name on it. So does Julian’s. Two signatures on a binding co-ambassador agreement neither of them wrote, locked under a morals clause sharp enough to end both their careers before sunrise. Frost silvers the peach crates by the loading dock. A forgotten radio murmurs something slow and aching down the empty hall. And somewhere on a sports blog’s scheduled queue, ninety minutes of countdown ticks toward a leak that will bury Maeve — again — unless she and her former rival step in front of the cameras together and sell the one story no one will see coming.
A fake engagement. His name beside hers, this time by choice.
Did this story work for you?
Did this story work for you?
Inspired by After Dark
Choose the trope, heat, characters and ending. No creation experience needed.