Chapter 3: The Seven-Day Challenge

At home, I couldn’t help but ask, “So, when will you make me rich?”

He turned and walked straight into the bathroom.

I stared after him, mouth open. Was he serious? He disappeared for a full minute, and I heard the shower kick on. Great—already establishing boundaries like a seasoned New Yorker.

When he came out, his hair was wet, droplets trailing down his bare chest and disappearing into the towel at his waist!

I felt my blood pressure spike, shook my head hard to chase away the urge to pounce, and forced out two words: “Get rich!”

The sight was almost too much. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Calvin Klein commercial, and here I was, clutching my phone like a lifeline. I forced myself to look away and focus on the practical: money, Natalie, focus on the money!

After drying his hair, he sat upright on the couch, turned on CNBC, and finally said, “I have a seven-day observation period. If you can’t keep your hands off me during these seven days, I’m out. If you make it, I’ll help you get rich.”

“...”

How confident is he in his own appeal?

He made it sound so simple, like a fitness challenge from a YouTube ad. Seven days without jumping his bones—how hard could that be? Apparently, for me, very.

But I have to admit, my heart is pounding!

I’m starting to suspect he’s cast some kind of spell on me—I really am tempted by him.

I follow tons of hot influencers, but I’ve never seen abs like Grayson’s—sexy but not tacky, pure eye candy!

If only I could touch…

But for the sake of getting rich, I’ll endure!

I clung to the thought of finally paying off my student loans, traveling to Maui, or at least upgrading my iPhone. I would not let some washboard abs distract me from generational wealth!

Once I’m a rich woman, what kind of man couldn’t I get?

I stomped into the bathroom, tossing over my shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in you!”

After showering, I put on a little slip dress and dried my hair in front of him, every move reflected in the mirror. Even I started to feel flustered!

After all, I’m a knockout among humans—how could I let a fox spirit outshine me?

But!

He just frowned and said, “Natalie, you’re blocking the TV.”

...Fine, fine!

I huffed and slid to the side, feeling a weird blend of annoyance and embarrassment. I’d never had to compete for attention with a TV before.

For the next seven days, we had a full-on show-off battle!

He went shirtless, I wore his button-down.

He wore gray sweatpants for his morning run, I wore a bikini to swim laps.

He did ab crunches on the balcony at dawn, I sat beside him and did waist exercises…

Neither of us would back down!

It was like our own private reality show—America’s Next Top Roommate. It became an unspoken contest—who could be more unfazed by the other’s existence. The neighbors probably thought we were shooting a TikTok challenge. I caught Grayson smirking once, but he never let his cool slip for long.

But honestly, my bravado was all for show.

When I saw the fox spirit my best friend bought, I was so jealous I could’ve eaten my own shoe!

Her fox spirit didn’t have any ‘training mishaps’!

Not as good-looking as Grayson, but still miles ahead of any regular guy!

My best friend is completely hooked—hasn’t left her apartment in days!

While her fox spirit was cooking, my bestie leaned in and whispered, “How’s yours? Is he any good?”

“...Haven’t tried him yet!”

“What’s wrong? Are you shy? Listen, fox spirits are just for our enjoyment, no need to feel guilty.”

Just as she finished, her fox spirit appeared beside us, eyes smoldering and a little teary—

“Boss, am I just a tool to you?”

That look, that voice—straight out of a movie!

My bestie froze, then quickly stood up, flustered. “I was just talking nonsense! I really like you now, really!”

The fox spirit ignored me, swept her into his arms. “Then prove it…”

My bestie peeked over his shoulder and mouthed at me to leave!

Alright, I’ll see myself out!

I grabbed my purse, slunk to the door, and texted her a string of winking emojis as I left—nothing like being a third wheel in your best friend’s magical romance. I texted her a string of winking emojis, but honestly, I felt like the only single girl left at prom.