Probably. See you Saturday.
I put my phone away and walked out into the evening air, and I was smiling and I refused to think about what that meant.
One evening. That was all. Nothing complicated. Nothing dangerous.
How much damage could one evening possibly do?
CHAPTER 10
Pauline
The dress arrived Friday afternoon—tooearly, too deliberate, like it had been waiting for me.
I wasn’t expecting it so soon. Or for it to feel like an event—the delivery person in a crisp uniform, the box itself substantial and cream-colored with the kind of weight that whispered expensive before you even lifted the lid.
I signed for it with ink-stained fingers and carried it inside like it might explode.
It’s just a dress,I told myself.Just fabric. Just thread. Nothing that should make my pulse trip over itself.
I lifted the lid.
Midnight-blue silk spilled out—liquid, luminous, like someone had bottled the night and poured it into the box. I touched it before I could stop myself, and the fabric slid through my fingers like cool water.
It was beautiful. Impossibly beautiful—the kind of dress that didn’t just change what you wore but changed who you were when you wore it. Simple in its cut, elegant in its lines, with a neckline that was tasteful and a back that dipped just low enough to make a statement.
And the color…
Something in my chest tightened. Jack had always loved me in blue. Said it made me look like I was lit from the inside. He’d told me once that it made my skin luminous, and brought out something in my eyes he couldn’t look away from.
I told myself that it was probably just a coincidence. He probably didn’t even pick it himself. He had assistants and stylists for this. People who choose dresses for women he takes to galas.
The thought should have been comforting. Instead, it left something hollow in my chest.
Beneath the dress were shoes to match—delicate heels in the same deep blue—and a clutch, and a handwritten note in bold script that I recognized immediately.
6:30PM. Don’t be late.
No signature. He didn’t need one.
I pressed my fingers against the words and tried to ignore the way my heart was racing.
This was a terrible idea. I had known it was a terrible idea the moment I agreed to it. But it was too late to back out now, and some treacherous part of me didn’t want to.
At 6:25, I was standing in front of my mirror, second-guessing every choice I’d made in my entire life.
The dress fit like it had been made for me. The heels added three inches to my height and approximately five hundred percent to my anxiety.
I’d done my makeup, and my hair was twisted up in a style I’d learned from YouTube tutorials at two in the morning when I couldn’t sleep.
I looked… different. Like a version of myself I’d never met. Someone who belonged at galas and charity events and on the arm of a billionaire.
A car engine purred outside. I grabbed my clutch, took one last breath, and opened my door.
Candy was on her porch watering a plant that looked like it had given up on life weeks ago. She glanced up as I stepped out—and promptly dropped the watering can.
“Holy shit.” Her jaw actually dropped. “Wells. What the hell. You look like a movie star!”
“It’s just a dress,” I said. Heat crawled up my neck. Compliments always felt like clothes that didn’t quite fit.
