The first time Ashley Jameson saw Hadrian Valor, she was carrying a tray of champagne glasses and trying desperately not to fall.

It was not a particularly dignified way to meet a billionaire. In fact, if Ashley had been given the choice, she would have preferred never to meet him at all. Men like Hadrian Valor belonged to another world, a world of penthouses, private jets, expensive watches and family names that opened doors before they even reached there. Ashley’s world was considerably smaller, it consisted of a rented two-bedroom apartment, a mother who worked all her life but had nothing to show for it, unpaid bills that seemed to reproduce overnight and Ashley’s stubborn determination to build a life that was slightly better than the one she had been given.

She had grown accustomed to knowing exactly how much was in her bank account before she bought anything. She knew which grocery stores reduced its prices in the evening and which bus route would save her money to make a difference at the end of the month. She knew how to make one chicken stretch across three meals, how to repair clothes instead of replacing them and how to smile at her mother even when she herself was frightened about what tomorrow would bring.

She had never been ashamed of her family, but she had learned that the world was very good at reminding poor people that they were poor.

Tonight, however, she had put all of that out of her mind. The hotel ballroom was hosting one of the city’s most expensive charity galas and Ashley had been hired through the catering company where she worked. She had spent the entire afternoon running between tables, carrying trays, replacing glasses and smiling politely at people whose dresses probably cost more than her annual salary. She had learned long ago not to stare at expensive things. Staring only made her conscious of what she didn’t have.

“Ashley!”

She turned at the sound of Dora’s voice. Dora was carrying a stack of folded napkins and looking at her with an expression that suggested she was already exhausted.

“What?”

“Table twelve needs another bottle of champagne.”

Ashley glanced through the table. “Again?”

“Apparently, rich people get thirsty.”

Ashley laughed beneath her breath. “You’re going to get us fired.”

Dora grinned. “Then at least, I’ll get fired honestly.”

Ashley shook her head and picked up the bottle. “Go, I’ll handle the glasses.”

She moved through the ballroom carefully, her black shoes clicking softly against the polished floor.

The ballroom looked like something from a movie. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, scattering warm light across the polished marble floor. Tall arrangements of white flowers stood on every table and the soft music from a string quartet floated through the room beneath the low murmur of hundreds of conversations. Men in black tuxedos stood in small groups discussing business while women in designer gowns moved gracefully between them. Every surface seemed polished. Every smile seemed practiced.

Ashley felt as though she had stepped into a movie.

She adjusted the tray against her palm and reminded herself why she was there.

Work. That was all.

She was crossing the ballroom when her heel caught the edge of the carpet.

They tilted. Three champagne glasses dangerously slid toward the edge. Ashley’s heart jumped into her throat as she grabbed the tray with both hands.

For one terrifying second, she thought everything was going to crash to the floor. But it didn’t. She steadied the tray and took a shaky breath.

“Careful, Ashley.” Her coworkers’ warning came too late. Ashley straightened herself and forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

She barely had time to recover before another voice spoke behind her. “Are you sure?”

The voice was deep and calm.

Ashley turned and she forgot what she had been able to say.

He was standing only a few feet away.

Hadrian Valor.

She knew him immediately, everyone did.

His photographs had appeared in business magazines so many times that she almost felt ridiculous for recognizing him so quickly. He was thirty-one, the youngest CEO in the history of Valor International and, according to everything Ashley had read online, one of the wealthiest unmarried men in the country.

But photographs had not prepared her for him in person.

He was tall, broad-shouldered and dressed in a perfectly tailored tuxedo. His hair was neatly styled, his jaw clean-shaven and his expression carried the effortless confidence of someone who had never had to wonder whether he belonged in a room.

His eyes moved briefly to the champagne tray.

“You nearly dropped that.”

Ashley looked down. “I know.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “That usually happens when people nearly drop things.”

She stared at him, then realized he was joking. “Oh.”

His smile widened. “Relax.”

“I’m sorry,” she said with an apologetic expression.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t know.”

Not knowing the reason she apologized, she had always believed that rich people always look less of the poor. That made him laugh. It wasn’t a loud laugh. It was quiet, almost surprised, as though he hadn’t expected to find anything amusing tonight.

Ashley suddenly became aware that several people were looking at them.

She lowered her eyes. “I should get back to work.”

“What’s your name?” he asked, wanting to know her more because he was surprised she didn’t try to impress him.

“Ashley Jameson.”

“I’m Hadrian,” he said with a smile on his face.

She laughed.

“I know you, everyone knows you.”

Something about her answer amused him.

“I suppose that’s true.”

Someone called his name from across the ballroom.

“Hadrian.”

He glanced over his shoulder and he saw that a group of businessmen were waiting for him.

“I have to go.”

“Of course.”

Then he walked away as Ashley watched him disappear into the crowd.

“Ashley!” Dora shouted from behind and appeared beside her.

“What?” she asked, looking so lost and unaware about why she shouted her name.

“Why was Hadrian Valor flirting with you?”

“He wasn’t flirting, he was just being polite.”

Ashley shook her head and continued toward the next table, avoiding Dora’s silly questions.

Twenty minutes later, while delivering another plate of drinks, she felt someone’s eyes on her. She looked up.

Hadrian was standing across the ballroom listening to an older businessman speak, but his attention wasn’t entirely on the conversation. His eyes were on her.

Their gazes met.

Ashley froze.

Hadrian smiled.

A small, private smile that seemed only for her.

Her heart skipped. She looked away and told herself it meant nothing, not knowing she was wrong.

What Ashley didn’t know was that Hadrian had spent the entire evening noticing things about her that he hadn’t intended to notice. He had noticed the way she apologized even when she had done nothing wrong. He had noticed that she never interrupted conversations. He had noticed that when guests ignored the staff, she still thanked them politely.

Most importantly, he had noticed that she looked at him without the usual expression he had become accustomed to seeing.

There had been no calculation in her eyes, no obvious attempt to impress him, not even a flirtatious smile designed to get his attention.

She had simply looked at him, as though he were a man and not Hadrian Valor.

That was what stayed with him long after the gala ended.

When Hadrian Valor finally stepped into the back seat of his car that night, his assistant, Matt, glanced at him through the rear-view mirror.

“You seem unusually quiet.”

“I’m tired.”

Matt smiled. “You’ve been tired for three weeks.”

Hadrian looked out the window. He could still see a pair of brown eyes in his mind. “Who was the waitress?” he asked out of curiosity.

Matt frowned. “What waitress?”

“The one at the gala.” He looked away to avoid Matt’s teasing and unnecessary questions.

Matt’s smile widened. “Ahah.”

Hadrian looked at him sharply. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

Matt laughed. “Alright, fine.”

The car began moving. Hadrian looked out of the window for several minutes. He said nothing. Then he spoke. “Matt, the waitress…”

“What is it about her?”

“I want you to dig in deep about her.”

Matt gave him a suspicious look. “Why?”

Hadrian leaned back. “Just find out.”

“Of course.” Matt tried not to smile.

Hadrian turned to the window again. He told himself it was nothing. It was just curiosity.

At least, that was what he believed.