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The Cost Per Day

She charges $3,287.67 per day to be someone's wife. Wren Farris is a professional — a high-end companion who plays the role of perfect partner at galas, dinners, and business negotiations. No attachment. No real intimacy. Just flawless performance and a wire transfer at the end. But when Cal Brandt asks her to sign a year-long marriage contract, everything she's built her career on begins to shift. Cal doesn't test her boundaries. He memorizes them. He leaves sixteen inches of space between them in the car, learns how she takes her espresso, and never once asks for more than the deal requires. Which is exactly the problem. Because in a house on Bank Street, where morning light turns soapstone the color of wet slate and silence says more than conversation ever could, Wren is beginning to notice things that have nothing to do with the contract. The distance he keeps. The way he never crosses it. And the terrifying question forming beneath her professional composure: what happens when the woman paid not to feel anything starts wanting the one thing that isn't in the terms?