Early morning in Riverside Hills was quiet and elegant. From the window of Adrian Foster's penthouse, the lights of Manhattan twinkled like a sea of electric stars. The landscape was hypnotic, but the growling of his stomach brought him back to reality.
He'd drunk too much at Daniel's bar and had barely nibbled on a couple of snacks. Now, at this hour, hunger was consuming him.
"It's no use having the best skyline in the world if you're hungry," he muttered with a half smile as he scratched his unkempt hair.
He crossed the spacious living room and entered his minimalist kitchen, equipped with the latest technology. The refrigerator was stocked with imported meats, fine cheeses, fruits, vegetables, even caviar. But Adrian wasn't in the mood to cook anything elaborate.
He opened a shelf and took out a box of instant mac & cheese. It might not seem like much for someone eating breakfast on Fifth Avenue, but he knew how to spice it up. While the water was boiling, he took out cherry tomatoes, a couple of asparagus, some Iberian ham, and a small can of preserved abalone he'd bought almost on a whim.
"A three-star chef would kill himself if he saw me do this," she laughed as she added everything to the creamy macaroni.
He placed a perfectly poached egg on top, sprinkled grated white truffle, and finally took a seat at the marble island with his impromptu feast.
The aroma was intense and comforting. Adrian took a spoonful and raised his eyebrows, satisfied.
—Not bad at all, Foster. You're a genius at quick cooking. Olivia will be lucky to try this one day.
Cell phone in hand, he lazily scrolled through WhatsApp. He'd never had many digital friends: fewer than 100 contacts, most from his time at Columbia University. Some had tried to get him into sales schemes or strange business deals, and he'd cleaned things up. In the end, his list was almost empty.
But theWhatsApp statusesfrom that night they were a festival.
Daniel Hunt had posted several photos from the bar: two bottles of champagne held high, his face covered in cake, and his arms around Anna Stevens and another woman in a tight black dress. The guy seemed immortal, always living between partying and excess.
The comments poured in:
—"You are a wretch."
—"Someday you're going to break."
—"Invite me, asshole."
Adrian laughed. Daniel was a lost cause, but that's precisely what made him funny. He decided to write to him:
Adrian: "Don't get my car dirty."
Daniel: "Trust me 😎."
Adrian: "…"
Daniel: "What's wrong? Worried about me?"
Adrian: "When you give it back to me, wash it well and put lots of air freshener in it."
Daniel: "Yes sir."
Adrian shook his head. That idiot always knew how to make him smile.
He kept swiping until the photo ofMargaret Foster, her mother. She was holding a baby girl in her arms, smiling radiantly. The caption read:
"Age doesn't matter. The most important thing is to get married and start a family. Without children, not even nursing homes will accept you."
Adrian ran his hand over his face. He knew those direct hints well. His mother had been pressuring him for years to "settle down." He wrote a long message with arguments about freedom, independence, and individual happiness, but deleted it before sending it.
Instead, he replied with a simple period: "."
I wasn't going to tell him about Olivia yet. It was still too soon, too fragile.
He continued checking until he encountered an unexpected status. The user said:"DreamingTing". Era Olivia Hayes.
She almost never posted anything, and now she'd uploaded a photo: four girls having dinner together. He recognized Olivia in the center, looking naturally elegant even in something as simple as a silk blouse. Beside her was her assistant, Claire, and two others: a curly-haired blonde with a sophisticated air, and another with short hair who radiated confidence.
All four were smiling, raising their hands in a "victory" gesture toward the camera.
Adrian stared at the screen longer than necessary. His mind began to fill with questions: Who were those girls? Why were they eating dinner so late? What role did they play in Olivia's life?
Before getting lost in speculation, he opened the private chat. He hesitated for a few seconds, then typed:
Adrian: "Still awake? Did you just get off work?"
The response came surprisingly quickly.
Olivia: "No, it was my best friend's birthday. We went to dinner. I just got home. Mr. Foster, you haven't slept either 😅."
Adrian smiled. He typed while looking at the bowl in front of him.
Adrian"I woke up hungry. So I made this. (Photo attached)"
The image showed his improvised mac & cheese, with abalone and poached egg.
Olivia: "😳 A millionaire CEO eating instant mac & cheese? Now that's news."
Adrian: "And what do you think I should eat?"
Olivia: "I don't know, order something gourmet? Or have your housekeeper prepare something for you."
Adrian"I don't have a housekeeper. And believe me, this is delicious. Look at this grated truffle. (another photo)"
A few seconds passed before Olivia answered.
Olivia: "The life of the rich is definitely on another level. Even your mac & cheese looks like it's from a Michelin-starred restaurant. And here I am, with a boring salad 🤦♀️."
Adrian"Food is an art. And a pleasure. I'd say you're part of the foodie club."
Olivia: "How did you know? 😂"
Adrian: "Instinct. Besides, I can tell from the way you talk about life."
She responded with a thoughtful emoji. She then wrote:
Olivia: "That's true. For me, life is a banquet. Eating well is the best thing there is."
Adrián, amused, began bombarding her with photos saved in his gallery: white truffle from Alba, caviar, gratin scallops, salmon sushi, artisanal Neapolitan pizza.
Olivia: "Adrian! 😡 If you were here, I'd throw something at your head. How cruel to show me that at this hour."
He burst out laughing so loud he almost spilled his glass of water.
Adrian"Don't be dramatic. Besides, these things aren't that big of a deal. It's not what you eat that matters, it's who you eat it with."
The chat remained silent for a few seconds. Olivia didn't reply right away. Adrián leaned back in his chair, smiling contentedly. He'd achieved what he'd hoped for: to take the conversation beyond work, into a more personal, more intimate setting.
Finally, a message appeared on the screen:
Olivia: "Maybe you're right… Although I still think I deserve at least a formal invitation to try that food of yours."
Adrian rested his head on his hand, looking out at the city through the glass. His lips curved mischievously.
Adrian: "You can count on it. Very soon."
He closed the chat, still with a smile on his face. Outside, the lights of New York seemed to shine with a different hue. And deep down, he knew that conversation had marked a turning point with Olivia Hayes.