She woke on an unfamiliar bed as dawn was only just beginning to break.
Listening quietly to the soft rustle of clothes beside her, Linda Carter still couldn't quite believe how everything had happened.
Maybe the young man was simply too magnetic, young, handsome, impossibly rich, without a single flaw. Maybe it was vanity; after he'd kept her at his side for the rest of the party, the envious glances from women far younger and prettier than she was were a feeling she hadn't tasted in years. Or maybe he'd been drawing her in from the moment she sat down across from him.
Yes.
Hitchcock's The Shining!
She almost laughed. A cinematic genius like him wouldn't make an amateur mistake like that. He'd probably done it on purpose, to put her at ease. See? Even Simon Westeros gets things wrong. Nothing to be nervous about.
Looking back, she'd approached him with caution, even a touch of awe. After that little slip, she'd definitely relaxed.
Whatever the reason.
She'd played with fire.
And now something inside her felt hollow.
No, not quite.
She quietly reached up and touched her chest… not the heart.
She'd had a son the year before; the little guy wasn't even eighteen months old yet. To keep her figure, she'd barely breastfed him at all.
"Awake?"
A voice suddenly sounded beside her ear. Linda's cheeks warmed as she turned to the young man buttoning his shirt at the bedside. She gave a soft sound of acknowledgment, then tried to sound composed. "Morning."
"Morning," Simon said with a smile, fastening the last button. "Sleep a little more if you want. I'll have someone bring breakfast up. The driver will be waiting outside whenever you're ready to leave."
Linda noticed the man's watch on the nightstand. She reached out a pale arm, picked it up, and glanced at the time.
Not even a quarter past six.
At his earlier words, something clicked. "You're leaving already?"
"Yeah, work."
What work could there possibly be at six in the morning? It felt like he was trying to escape. She couldn't help asking, "You're not having breakfast?"
"Not really hungry."
Linda froze for a second, then her face flushed deeper as realization hit.
Jerk. Of course you're not hungry.
Simon caught her reaction and realized his answer had come out wrong. He felt a flicker of awkwardness. He actually had a seven o'clock working breakfast with Amy; he'd just answered reflexively because he didn't want to explain.
Dressed now, he saw she was still holding his watch under the sheet. He reached out to indicate it.
She noticed the gesture, instinctively shrank back, then realized and handed it over with an embarrassed smile.
Simon slipped the watch on, looked at the woman on the bed, hesitated, then pulled out his wallet and checkbook. He wrote for a moment, tore off a check, and held it out.
Linda had been avoiding his gaze, but out of the corner of her eye she caught the motion. She turned, eyes widening slightly, anger creeping into her voice. "What are you doing?"
Simon paused. "No other meaning. Just… buy yourself something you like."
Linda glared at him fiercely, said nothing, and turned away.
Simon looked at her back and said softly, "I'm sorry, Linda. Next time you're in L.A., let me take you to dinner."
"Asshole. You can go now."
He murmured another apology, thought for a moment, then gently placed the check on the nightstand and left the bedroom.
The door clicked shut.
Ten minutes or so later, she faintly heard the sound of a car engine.
The jerk's gone.
She was still angry.
She muttered a few more curses under her breath, wore herself out, and drifted back to sleep.
When she woke again, bright sunlight was streaming through the gap in the curtains. She pulled the sheet around herself, got out of bed, walked to the window, and drew open the drapes to the balcony. Harsh, cheerful sunlight flooded the entire room. The villa had a spectacular view, from inside the floor-to-ceiling windows she could see downtown Los Angeles at the foot of the hills and the deep blue of Santa Monica Bay glittering under the sun.
She lingered over the beauty of it, knowing none of it could ever belong to her.
Remembering what that little jerk had done a few hours ago, anger flared again. She wasn't anywhere near his level of wealth, but her husband was a prominent financial lawyer earning millions a year. Thanks to the lingering fame from Wonder Woman, she'd kept steady income from TV movies and endorsements over the years.
She wasn't short of money.
Originally, this could have been a thrilling, if slightly reckless memory. Then he had to treat her like one of those women and offer cash.
Jerk!
She muttered it once more, lost interest in the view, and headed to the bathroom.
After a quick wash and dressing, she picked up her clutch and started to leave, then noticed the check he'd signed still sitting on the nightstand, face down so she couldn't see the amount.
She hesitated.
There definitely won't be a next time anyway. Just see how much the jerk wrote.
Just look.
So she picked it up.
Then—
One, two, three, four, five, six… yes, six zeros before the decimal.
This was…
One million dollars?!
She stood frozen.
Wonder Woman had been ten years ago. The biggest single check she'd ever received was $500,000, a three-year bedding endorsement. The TV movie she'd just auditioned for would pay maybe $50,000 if she got it. She did those projects mostly for exposure, to keep the higher-paying endorsement deals coming and stay in America's upper-income bracket.
Even adding everything up, her average yearly income was only a few hundred thousand.
As for her husband's money, they kept finances separate and had even signed a prenup. Even in a divorce, she probably wouldn't get a lump sum over a million.
She stood there a while longer.
Thinking back to her reaction that morning, she'd assumed that if he was feeling generous, he might write $100,000 at most. A hundred thousand she could still turn her nose up at, on principle.
She seemed to remember telling him rather rudely to get out.
Now…
Suddenly she was convinced he'd done it on purpose, to torment her.
It had to be!
Horrible little man.
Scoundrel!
Bastard!
Villain!
If you're so generous, why not make it ten million, see if I'd take it!