The sleek black car glided smoothly into the university parking lot, earning more than a few curious stares. Students turned their heads, whispering as it rolled past the cracked pavement and row of dusty sedans.
Eva shrank a little in her seat. "You know people already think I'm your personal assistant, right? Pulling up like this won't help."
Jasmine smirked, flipping her sunglasses down. "Let them stare. At least they know I have taste."
"More like drama," Eva muttered, clutching her backpack as the car stopped.
The driver stepped out swiftly and opened the door for them. Jasmine emerged first—heels clicking, hair perfect, perfume soft but expensive. She adjusted her designer bag like she was walking a runway instead of a university courtyard.
Eva followed, tugging her hoodie over her T-shirt, her backpack slung lazily across one shoulder. The contrast between them was so sharp that a passing student whispered,
"Is that the same girl she always drags to class?"
"Yup," another replied. "The broke bestie."
Eva heard it, but she didn't flinch. She was used to it. Instead, she leaned closer to Jasmine and whispered, "Next time I'm walking."
Jasmine only smirked. "Next time, I'll tell the driver to drop you two streets away. Better?"
Eva chuckled, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
"Correction—irresistible."
They made their way toward the lecture hall, weaving through groups of students chatting by the steps. The air smelled of fresh coffee and paper—typical college morning chaos.
Eva spotted her classmates near the notice board. "I'll go check the schedule. You heading to your group meeting?"
"Yeah," Jasmine said, already glancing at her phone. "Dad wants me to meet someone later today. A business associate's son—whatever that means."
Eva laughed. "A setup. Definitely a setup."
Jasmine groaned. "Exactly! I told him I'm not ready for marriage interviews. I have a thesis to finish, not a fiancé to impress."
"Maybe he'll be ugly enough to scare your dad off."
"Ha! If only," Jasmine muttered, scrolling through her messages. "But you know what? If he turns out boring, I might send you instead."
Eva looked at her, wide-eyed. "Excuse me?"
Jasmine gave a wicked grin. "Relax, I'm kidding. Mostly."
Eva narrowed her eyes. "Mostly?"
Before Jasmine could reply, the bell rang from the administration building, echoing across the courtyard.
Eva sighed. "That's our cue. Come on before Professor Kim locks the door again."
The two hurried toward the hall, the marble floors gleaming beneath their steps. The chatter of students filled the air—plans, gossip, last-minute cramming.
Inside, the lecture room was already half full. Eva slid into her usual seat near the middle row while Jasmine, ever the social butterfly, waved at a group of friends near the back.
Professor Kim entered moments later, carrying a stack of papers. The room went quiet instantly.
"Good morning," he began, his tone brisk. "Before we continue our lesson, I have an announcement. The university will be hosting a corporate seminar next week—representatives from major companies will attend."
Murmurs rippled across the room.
Professor Kim continued, "It's a rare opportunity. Some of you might even get internship offers. So I expect your best behavior—and your attendance."
Eva exchanged glances with Jasmine, who whispered, "Bet my dad's company will be there."
Eva smiled faintly. "If they need a barista, I'm in."
***********************
LATER THAT DAY.....
The late afternoon rush at Brew & Bloom Café was in full swing. The scent of roasted beans and caramel syrup filled the air as customers shuffled in and out, leaving trails of chatter and steam.
Eva balanced two cups of coffee on a tray, weaving through the small tables with practiced ease. Her apron was dusted with coffee grounds, and her hair was pinned up messily, a few strands clinging to her flushed cheeks.
"Table five, Americano and a vanilla latte!" her boss — Mrs. Holt, a woman whose voice could curdle milk — barked from behind the counter.
"On it!" Eva called back, flashing her polite customer smile.
Just as she placed the cups down, the little bell over the door chimed — a soft, cheerful sound that normally didn't mean much. But this time, heads turned.
Because Jasmine Whitmore had just walked in.
Her designer sunglasses glinted under the light, her beige coat swung effortlessly around her frame, and her heels clicked confidently on the floor. She looked entirely out of place in the small café — like a scene from a luxury commercial that had wandered into reality.
Mrs. Holt's eyes widened slightly. "Can I help you, miss?"
"Yes," Jasmine said, removing her sunglasses and smiling charmingly. "Actually, I'm here for one of your employees. I'd like to borrow her for a bit."
Mrs. Holt blinked. "Borrow… her?"
"Just for a few minutes," Jasmine continued smoothly. "Eva Bennett. She's my friend."
At the sound of her name, Eva nearly dropped a coffee cup. She quickly wiped her hands on her apron and rushed toward Jasmine, whispering urgently, "Jasmine, what are you doing here? I'm at work!"
Jasmine grinned, lowering her voice. "I know, I know. But I need your help. It's urgent."
Eva crossed her arms. "Last time you said that, we ended up cleaning paint off your dad's car."
"This time it's different."
"Different how?"
Jasmine's eyes darted to Mrs. Holt, who was watching suspiciously. "Can we talk… somewhere private?"
With a sigh, Eva untied her apron. "Mrs. Holt," she said carefully, "my friend just needs a quick word. I'll be right back, promise."
Mrs. Holt looked between them, clearly unimpressed. "Five minutes, Bennett. And don't think I didn't see you talking instead of refilling the napkin station."
"Yes, ma'am," Eva muttered, dragging Jasmine toward a quiet corner near the back exit.
Once out of sight, Jasmine took a deep breath. "Okay. So. My dad set me up on another business dinner."
Eva groaned. "Again? With another heir who probably thinks emotions are a liability?"
"Exactly! That's why I need you to go."
Eva blinked. "What?"
Jasmine clasped her hands dramatically. "Please, Eva! You're the only one who can help me. Dad will kill me if I skip again. He said if this dinner doesn't happen, he'll cut off my card which i don't give a damn."
Eva sighed. "You're unbelievable."
"I know," Jasmine said sweetly. "But you love me."
"No, I tolerate you," Eva corrected, but the corners of her lips twitched. "And why me? Why not one of your other rich friends?"
"Because you don't like men like him," Jasmine said matter-of-factly. "You won't get swept up or say something dumb. Just sit there, act uninterested, and make him regret agreeing to the meeting."
Eva crossed her arms. "You're out of your mind."
"Maybe," Jasmine admitted, "but you're my only hope. You're my height, my hair color, and you can look classy when you try."
"Gee, thanks."
"Come on, please!" Jasmine grabbed her arm. "One dinner. I'll tell Dad he was awful, and we'll be done. I swear."
Eva hesitated. She could already picture it — an awkward dinner with some spoiled heir and a table too expensive to breathe near. But the way Jasmine looked at her, half desperate, half hopeful… it was hard to say no."And who's this guy, anyway?"
Jasmine frowned, thinking. "I don't know… something Thorne."
Eva raised an eyebrow. "Thorne? That already sounds dangerous."
"Ha! Please," Jasmine scoffed. "He's probably a forty-year-old with a company and a comb-over. My father doesn't care if I marry someone twice my age as long as it benefits the business."
Eva shook her head in disbelief. "That's insane."
"Tell me about it," Jasmine sighed dramatically. "I can't keep pretending I'm okay with this. But I can't say no again either. That's why I need you, Eva. Please."
Eva looked unconvinced. "You want me to go on a fake dinner date with a man named Thorne? You're insane."
"Maybe," Jasmine said, her tone softening. "But you're my only hope."
Eva exhaled deeply, her fingers drumming against her arm. "You're going to owe me for this."
Jasmine's face lit up instantly. "So you'll do it?"
Eva groaned. "Fine. But if this guy's creepy, I'm out the second dessert hits the table."
"Deal!" Jasmine squealed, throwing her arms around her. "You're the best, Eva Bennett! I swear, I'll never forget this."
"Yeah, you said that last time too."
Jasmine only grinned, gave her a playful salute, and turned toward the door. "I'll come pick you up when you close. Miss Whitmore-in-Training."
And with that, she was gone — leaving Eva standing there, apron in hand, wondering what kind of madness she had just agreed to.