My phone buzzed. Kevin's name flashed on the screen. I declined it. It buzzed again. Declined. He called five times in a row before I finally muted the notifications.

The morning traffic roared past me, a loud blur of yellow cabs and gray sedans. I kept my head down. I passed the corner bakery. The smell of fresh yeast and melting butter turned my stomach.

Kevin used to buy me croissants there.

"I'll always take care of you, Winnie," he had promised three years ago, standing right by that green awning. "You'll never have to cry alone again."

I stopped at the crosswalk. I stared at the flashing red hand.

Three years. I met him in a sterile hospital room at St. Jude’s. The heart monitors had beeped a steady rhythm. The exact same rhythm that used to beat in Jack's chest.

Jack. My first love. The donor.

"I'm Kevin," he had whispered from the hospital bed. His pale hand reached for mine. "Jack’s mother showed me your picture."

"You have his heart," I sobbed, burying my face in his blankets.

"I do," Kevin told me, his voice raspy from the breathing tube they had just removed. "I want to honor him. Let me take care of you, Winnie. Let me be the man he would have been."

He was so gentle back then. A perfect gentleman. He pulled out chairs, brought me hot soup when I studied late, and listened to me talk about Jack without ever getting jealous. We spent three months healing together. Then we became a couple.

But the gentleman vanished.

"I'm working late," Kevin started saying a year ago, avoiding my eyes while he tied his shoes.

"Don't wait up, I'm at the library," he told me last month, brushing past me in the hallway without a kiss.

"Lisa just needs help with her notes," he insisted three months ago. I had found her cheap vanilla perfume clinging to his jacket.

"Are you sure, Kevin?" I had asked him. "She calls you every night."

"You're acting crazy, Winnie. She's a junior. I'm mentoring her. Stop being so paranoid."

I chose to believe him. I chose to be blind. Until today. Until I saw them tangled in my bed, her legs wrapped around his waist.

I needed normalcy. I needed to finish my degree so I could get a real job and stop pouring whiskey for men who grabbed my hips.

I splashed cold water on my face in a campus restroom. I scrubbed the tear tracks away, fixed my ponytail, and walked into the lecture hall.

The pre-class chatter died down as I stepped down the aisle.

Kevin stood by the front row. Lisa clung to his bicep. Her fingers dug into his gray sweater.

"Well, look who made it to class," Lisa chirped. She leaned her head against Kevin's shoulder, a smug smile stretching across her face.

I stopped right in front of them. "Get out of my seat."

"Don't be so hostile, Winnie," Lisa said. She twirled a strand of blonde hair around her finger. "We're just making weekend plans."

"I don't care about your plans. Move."

"Make me," Lisa challenged, tilting her chin up.

"I don't have the energy to fight a child," I said. "Just move."

"Kevin and I are going camping tomorrow," she continued, raising her voice so the students in the second row could hear.

I tightened my grip on my notebook.

Lisa stepped closer. She invaded my space, smelling strongly of that same vanilla perfume. "Tomorrow is your birthday, right? Want to come?"

I stared at her glossed lips. "I wouldn't go anywhere with you."

"Oh, I forgot," Lisa mocked, feigning a gasp. She put a hand over her mouth. "You have to work at night. Pouring drinks for gross old men. You don't have time for a real relationship anyway."

I shifted my gaze to Kevin. He stared at the chalkboard.

"Are you really going to let her talk to me like this?" I asked.

Kevin shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn't meet my eyes.

"Say something, Kevin," I demanded. "You had plenty to say this morning when you were begging me to wait in the hallway."

Silence. He just chewed on his bottom lip.

"Cat got his tongue," Lisa laughed. "He doesn't want you, Winnie. He told me you're boring. He said you just act like a martyr because of your dad's debt."

"Shut up, Lisa," Kevin muttered, finally speaking.

"Don't tell her to shut up now," I said, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "You let her into my bed. You let her wear my sheets."

A few students gasped behind me.

"Winnie, keep your voice down," Kevin hissed. He glanced around the room nervously.

"Why? Are you embarrassed?" I stepped toward him. He shrank back.

"You have Jack's heart beating in your chest," I said. "Jack was a good man. He died to give you a second chance. How did you turn out to be such a coward?"

Kevin flinched. His jaw tightened. A flash of guilt crossed his face, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Come on, Kev," Lisa sneered, tugging his arm again. "Don't let her guilt-trip you. She's just bitter because she's broke."

"I'm not bitter," I said. I hoisted my backpack higher on my shoulder. "I'm done."

"Good," Lisa said. "We didn't want you here anyway."

I turned my back on them. I marched toward the exit.

"Have fun serving drinks, birthday girl!" Lisa called out behind me.

I pushed the heavy double doors open and stepped into the courtyard. The cold wind slapped my cheeks. My chest ached. I refused to cry. Not over him. Not over a boy who threw away a second chance at life just to cheat in a cheap apartment.

I sat on a stone bench near the fountain. I pulled out my notes, trying to focus on the upcoming midterms. The letters blurred together on the page.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out, half-expecting Vance to demand his lip gloss again.

It was Mom.

I swiped the screen and pressed the speaker to my ear. "Mom? I'm just leaving class."

"Winnie," she sobbed.

I froze. My spine locked up. "Mom, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"Baby, can you come to the hospital?" Her voice cracked. Static and panic distorted her words.

"Which hospital? Did something happen with the debt collectors?"

"No, no, it's not the collectors." She took a ragged, wet breath.

"Then what is it?" I stood up. My notebook slid off my lap and hit the dirt.

"It's your dad."

"Dad? I just saw him on Tuesday. He was fine."

"He collapsed, Winnie. His kidneys." She broke down into a heavy wail. "He's failing fast."

"I'm coming," I said. My blood ran cold. "I'm on my way right now."

"Hurry," she whispered. "The doctors say he's not going to make it through the day."

I burst through the ER double doors. Mom sat slumped against the pale green wall outside Surgery Room B.

"Mom."

She jumped, her head snapping up. Her eyes were swollen, red, and completely hollow. She grabbed my hands the second I reached her.

"Winnie, they won't proceed," she choked out. "The front desk needs a deposit for the dialysis and the transplant waitlist. They know about the bankruptcy."

"How much?" I asked.

"Fifty thousand. Just to start."

I swallowed hard. My bank account held maybe three hundred dollars.

"I'll get it," I told her. "I won't let him die."

"From where?" Mom sobbed. Her fingers dug into my wrists. "The creditors took the house. They took the cars. We have nothing left."

"I'll figure it out. Stay here."

I paced down the sterile corridor, pulling out my phone. I hated myself for doing this. I hated him. But I had no one else to ask. Kevin had a massive trust fund. He had offered to pay off my dad's debts a year ago, back when I still believed his promises. I had refused then. I couldn't refuse now.

I dialed his number. It rang three times.

"Hello?" A high, sweet voice answered.

My stomach dropped. "Put Kevin on the phone, Lisa."

"Kevin's phone is right here with me," she chirped. The sound of a television blared in the background.

"This is an emergency. My dad is in the hospital. I need to talk to him."

Lisa laughed, a sharp, grating sound. "We're playing a game, Winnie. He's a little tied up right now."

"Lisa, please. It's life or death. I just need a loan."

"You should have thought about that before you screamed at him in front of the whole class."

"Give him the phone!"

"Oops. Battery's dying. Bye, birthday girl."

The line went dead.

I stared at the black screen. I dialed again. Voicemail.

My knees gave out. I sank to the linoleum floor, pressing my back against the cold wall.

Tears spilled over my eyelashes. I buried my face in my hands. Fifty thousand dollars. I could sell my organs and still not have it by tonight. My dad was going to die because I was useless. A pathetic, broke college student who poured drinks for tips.

I sobbed, pulling at the roots of my hair. The hospital announcements buzzed overhead, a cruel reminder that life moved on while mine fell apart.

A shadow fell over me.

I didn't look up. "Please, just leave me alone," I choked out.

"A rather poor greeting for a man who holds your solution."

The voice was deep, smooth, and terrifyingly calm. The same voice from the VIP room. The same voice from the phone call this morning.

I raised my head. A pair of polished, black leather oxfords stood inches from my sneakers. My gaze traveled up the sharp crease of tailored charcoal trousers, stopping at a perfectly buttoned suit jacket.

Vance Harrison stared down at me.

He didn't look like a man visiting a hospital. He looked like he owned the building.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, wiping my wet cheeks.

"I followed you," Vance stated. He didn't even try to hide it. "You ran out of the university courtyard quite fast."

"You stalked me?"

"I kept an eye on an investment." He pulled a silver cigarette case from his pocket, flipped it open, then shut it again without taking one. "The front desk is holding your father's surgery hostage over fifty thousand dollars."

"How do you know that?"

"I know everything that happens in this city, Winnie."

I pushed myself up from the floor. My legs shook, but I forced myself to stand tall. "Did you come here to mock me? To demand your lip gloss back?"

"I came to make a deal."

Vance stepped closer. The scent of expensive cedar and cold mint wrapped around me.

"I can pay your father's medical bills," he said, his tone entirely conversational. "In full. I will also clear the two million in debt your family owes, and inject enough capital to bring your father's company back to life."

I stared at him. The words didn't make sense. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I can."

"Nobody just gives away millions of dollars to a club waitress."

"I am not giving it away." Vance tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "I am purchasing something."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "What do you want? I don't have anything."

"You have exactly what I need."

"I'm not sleeping with you for money."

Vance actually smiled. It was a small, cold curve of his lips. "I don't pay for women. I want a legal, binding contract."

"What kind of contract?"

"Marry me."

The corridor spun. I gripped the railing on the wall to keep from falling. "Excuse me?"

"Marry me, Winnie. Become my wife on paper. Move into my house. Play the part for my family."

"You're insane. We met yesterday."

"Time is irrelevant. My grandfather is restructuring the Harrison trust. He requires me to be settled. Married." He checked a heavy gold watch on his wrist. "You need money. I need a wife who won't ask questions. It is a perfect transaction."

"Marriage isn't a transaction!"

"Everything is a transaction." Vance stepped into my space. He forced me to tilt my chin up to maintain eye contact. "Your father has perhaps two hours before his organs shut down completely. Say yes, and the surgeons start cutting. Say no, and you can start planning a funeral. Choose."

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Before I could answer, hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. A man in a gray suit jogged toward us.

"Mr. Harrison," the man said, stopping a few feet away. He glanced at me, then quickly looked back at his boss.

"Is it handled, Elias?" Vance asked.

"Yes, sir. The VIP wing is prepped." Elias clutched a manila folder tightly against his chest.

The edge of a white paper stuck out from the folder. My eyes darted to the bold black letters printed across the top.

*Post-Heart Transplant Follow-up.*

Elias noticed my gaze. He shoved the paper deep into the folder, snapping it shut. He stepped forward quickly, putting his body between me and the documents.

"The doctors are waiting for your signature, sir," Elias added, his voice tight.

Vance didn't look at the folder. He kept his dark, unreadable eyes fixed entirely on me.

"Well, Winnie?" Vance murmured. "Do we have a deal?"