If Wilson Carter had to describe his life in three simple words, they'd be: women, work, win. He always thought he understood all three.
Then he woke up one rainy Tuesday morning, head pounding, cheap coffee dripping onto his kitchen floor, and realized the universe had decided to play a cruel joke.
He could hear voices. Not the usual ones — not the neighbors, not the radio. Voices that didn't come out of anyone's mouth. They came straight from the minds of every woman within earshot.
It hit him first at his usual coffee stop. He leaned against the counter, ready to flash his best grin at the barista young, trendy, thick black eyeliner that said "Notice me". He knew this game. Smile, charm, a few words, and maybe her number scribbled on the napkin.
Except this time, when he said, "Rough morning for you too?" the answer that slammed into his skull wasn't the polite one.
Another one of these smooth talkers. Decent jawline though. Shame he's probably full of himself.
He almost dropped his wallet. He stared at her. She only blinked and smiled, lips saying, "Coming right up." Her thoughts were still rolling, clear as glass.
Wish I could tell him to ditch that cheap cologne. Still smells kinda good though.
Wilson stumbled outside minutes later, latte in hand, nerves shot. He sat at a patio table near the office, staring at the street like it owed him an explanation. Cars hissed by in the rain, but the voices wouldn't shut up. The woman next to him sipped her tea while silently picking apart his entire outfit. Another lady on her phone spared him a glance and in her head labeled him "Probably cheating material."
He squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't insane. He couldn't be.
A familiar voice dragged him back to reality.
"There you are, Carter. Trying to hide out here while the rest of us do your job?"
He didn't have to look up. He knew that voice. Mia Hamilton, the account manager who'd never once laughed at his flirty lines. She was standing there in a fitted black blazer, hair pinned back tight, eyes as sharp as ever. If there was anyone he never figured out, it was her.
Her actual voice was calm, but her mind — that was a shock.
Don't get distracted by that lazy grin. He's late again. He probably thinks he can charm his way through the pitch. Not happening today.
He nearly laughed. Mia perfect, composed Mia thought he was predictable. Worse, she was right.
"Morning, Hamilton," he said, forcing his grin wider. "Good choice, black suits you. Matches your mood."
She didn't miss a beat. "Keep talking. Maybe you'll remember we have a million-dollar pitch in twenty minutes."
Her mind flickered again.
Focus. Don't stare at him. Not today. He looks better when he's flustered anyway.
He took a sip of his coffee just to hide his smile. The world had officially lost its mind, and so had he.
Then another figure appeared beside Mia, stepping into his line of vision with a calculated smile that never reached her eyes. Luna Chen. Head of digital, and more rumor than reality most days. She had a reputation for wrapping everyone around her little finger men especially.
"Wilson," Luna said sweetly, voice like velvet over poison. "You look awful. Late night?"
In her head though, the poison was sharper.
He thinks Mia has him figured out. Cute. He'll crawl my way first. They always do.
Wilson felt the headache pound harder. He couldn't even look at Luna without her mind trying to pull him apart.
"I'm fine," he said, voice steady. "But thanks for the concern."
Mia watched him, suspicion in her eyes. She turned on her heel without another word, heading for the glass doors of Marston & Co. Luna gave him a parting smile that promised trouble before gliding after her.
Wilson set his empty cup on the table. He stood there a moment, rain dripping off the awning, mind buzzing with voices he never asked to hear.
He'd spent years acting like he knew exactly what women wanted. Now he really did and it might just ruin him.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed them inside. If this was how the day was starting, he could only imagine how badly it was about to end.