~Kate's POV~
I couldn't believe I had just done that. Of all the men in the world, I had to kiss Jack Reeves—the billionaire heir himself.
"I'm losing my mind," I muttered to myself, pressing a hand to my lips. "What the hell was I thinking?"
I stared out the cab window, city lights streaking across the glass as my thoughts raced. My life had taken a full 360-degree turn in a single day. I had died and relived the same day—that alone was enough to make me question my sanity.
"I need to talk to Mom," I whispered. "She'll probably think I'm crazy, but I can't keep this to myself."
When the cab pulled up to my building, I paid the driver, got out, and went straight to my apartment.
"Home sweet chaos," I muttered under my breath.
I showered, ate something light, and made a hot drink.
Brad's betrayal—though I'd lived it twice—still cut deep. I had really loved him. And foolishly, I thought he loved me too. Maybe the Hunts were cursed when it came to men. Perhaps my mother had triggered it somehow, I thought bitterly.
"Nice going, Kate," I murmured. "Falling for a cheat, I was so blind. My mom will for sure have a field day with this."
Exhausted, both mentally and physically, I crawled into bed. My last thought before sleep pulled me under was of Jack Reeves—how he had held me, kissed me like I was water and he was dying of thirst.
"Kate, check your mail. I've approved your sick leave," my HR manager said over the phone.
I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing the next morning. The sun was already up when I sat up in bed.
"Ugh," I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Morning already?"
I must have fallen into a deep sleep last night; my mind had clearly had enough.
"Alright, I'll acknowledge the email," I said groggily.
"Make sure you hand over to your replacement properly. Take care of yourself, Kate."
"Will do, thanks," I replied softly.
When I hung up, I noticed a text from Brad:
Kate, we need to talk. Please let me explain.
I rolled my eyes and ignored it. "Yeah, explain how your pants fell off by accident?" I muttered sarcastically.
Instead, I started my morning with bacon and eggs, then decided to hit the gym and maybe go to the cinema later. I wanted to relax before I sent messages to a few of my friends—and my mother—about my broken engagement.
The replies came flooding in, full of shock and sympathy.
"Oh my God, Kate, are you okay?" one read.
"You deserve better, babe!" another said.
I lied to them, saying Brad and I just couldn't find common ground. God knows I didn't want my story to become gossip at girls' night.
I was about to text the last person on my list when my mom's name flashed on my screen.
"You broke your engagement?" she asked the moment I picked up.
"Hi, Mom. Yes, I did."
"Why?"
"I guess you were right. Men can't be trusted. Brad's an asshole."
"He cheated on you, didn't he? I've always told you men are scum, and because you didn't listen, you had to learn the hard way."
I sighed. "Here we go again."
"Don't give me that sassy attitude, I told you a man like that will always be surrounded by beautiful women," she continued. "You need to amp up your looks, darling, so you can compete with them."
I'd heard this lecture before. "Sure," I said flatly. "Mom, can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead, darling."
"Have you ever… relived a day before? Or do we have any relatives—distant or close—who've said something weird like dying and reliving the same day? Because I might have experienced something like that."
There was a long pause.
"Sweetheart… are you on drugs?"
I rolled my eyes. "Mom! I'm not on drugs. Forget I said anything."
"I didn't raise an addict, and I will not allow you to become one as long as I'm alive!"
"Oh my God, Mom, I was just curious! Forget it."
"I think I need to cut my vacation short," she muttered. "I knew leaving you when you looked like death wasn't right, and now you're saying things I don't even understand."
I groaned. "Mom, it was a joke, okay? I was trying to be funny."
"Why would you joke about something like that?"
"I'm sorry, Mom," I said, trying to appease her. "I really need to go—my boss needs me."
"Alright, darling."
She hung up, and I let out a long sigh. "That would be the last time I tell you anything remotely strange."
Then my doorbell rang.
I frowned. "Who the hell—?"
"Kate, it's me. Open the door, please," came Brad's voice.
I gritted my teeth. "I told you not to come here. The only busy part of your body when I told you that was your dick, not your ears."
"Kate, come on—"
"Fuck off," I snapped and left the door.
The audacity of that asshole. How did he plan to explain what I saw with my own two eyes?
About an hour later, the doorbell rang again.
"How many times do I have to—"
"Miss Hunt?" A voice I didn't recognize came through the speaker.
I paused. "Yes?"
"My name is Drake. I was sent by Mr. Reeves to deliver a package to you."
"Mr. Reeves?" I asked, surprised. "Jack Reeves?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"How did he—? Never mind. You can come up," I said, still skeptical.
When he arrived, he knocked politely. I opened the door slightly.
"Hello, Miss Hunt. Kindly accept this package."
I opened the door fully and took it from him. "Thank you?" I said, clearly confused.
"Mr. Reeves said he'll call to explain everything. Have a nice day, Miss Hunt."
He turned and left before I could say anything else.
"Okay… that's not suspicious at all," I murmured, carrying the box inside.
I opened it—and gasped.
Inside was a beautiful, silky red gown. Backless, with a slit that climbed up the thigh. It shimmered under the light, elegant and daring at once.
I held it against myself. "It's my exact size," I whispered. "How did he know?"
A minute later, my phone rang.
"Hello?" I said cautiously.
"Hi, Kate. It's Jack Reeves."
For a moment, I went completely still. His voice brought back the memory of his lips, his arms around me.
"What the hell, Kate? Get it together," I whispered to myself.
"Hello…" he said after a pause, sounding amused. "You still there?"
"Mr. Reeves… how did you get my number—and know where I live?" I asked, confused.
"I have my ways," he replied smoothly. "You left quite an impression last night. I just had to know who you are. Would you like to go on a date with me?"
"A… date?" I blinked. "Are you sure you don't have the wrong number?"
"I'm very sure I'm speaking to Kate Hunt—the woman who kissed me last night."
I felt my face warm. "I'm really sorry about that."
"Do you like the dress?" he asked.
"It's stunning. Thank you. But, Mr. Reeves, I just went through a really tough breakup. I'm not ready for anything right now."
"Call me Jack, Kate."
"Um…"
"You kissed me in the lobby without my consent," he said teasingly. "I think I deserve compensation for that. The date is your compensation."
I chewed my lip, hesitating. "Okay," I said finally.
"Okay? Good. My driver will pick you up from your apartment tomorrow evening at six. Have a good day, Kate."
"Wait, Jack—"
But the line went dead.
I sat there, staring at my phone.
Jack Reeves—the billionaire playboy—had just asked me out on a date.
And I'd said yes.
I ran a hand over my face and groaned. "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"