The main showroom has been transformed.
Balloons everywhere. Pink and gold. A banner that says HAPPY 30TH in glittery letters. A table covered in food—none of which I recognize as Jasper’s usual aesthetic of “small portions on oversized plates.”
This is real food. Comfort food. Grandma’s food.
Grandma’s standing by the champagne display, talking to Ruth. Lev and Dima are near the door, looking uncomfortable in a room full of pink.
And then I see him.
Standing next to Jasper’s desk. Tall. Gorgeous. Wearing a perfectly tailored navy suit.
Dark skin. Sharp cheekbones. Eyes that could melt steel. Hair cut close, fade perfect. The kind of handsome that makes you forget how to breathe.
He looks like he walked out of a Ralph Lauren campaign. Like someone sculpted him specifically to ruin lives.
“Who is that?” I whisper.
Jasper grins. “That’s Mateo.”
“Mateo?”
“My boyfriend.”
I turn to stare at him. “Since when do you have a boyfriend?”
“Since three weeks ago. Keep up.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“You were busy having an emotional breakdown. I didn’t want to rub my happiness in your face.”
Mateo sees us. Smiles. Walks over.
And oh God, he moves like he’s in slow motion. Confident. Smooth. Devastating.
“You must be Mary,” he says. His voice is warm. Accented. Perfect.
“I… Yes. Mary. That’s me.” I’m stammering. Why am I stammering?
“Jasper talks about you constantly.” He extends his hand. I shake it. His grip is firm. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.”
“Mateo’s a photographer,” Jasper adds. Proudly. Like a kid showing off a science project. “Editorial. Fashion. He shot that Vogue spread last month. The one with Zendaya.”
“That was you?” My voice comes out too high.
Mateo shrugs. Modest. “I had a good subject.”
“He’s being humble,” Jasper says. “He’s brilliant. Also hot. Have you noticed he’s hot?”
“Jas—”
“Because he’s very hot. Like stupidly hot. Like ‘I still can’t believe he’s dating me’ hot.”
Mateo laughs. Puts his arm around Jasper’s waist. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
They look at each other. And there’s something there. Something real.
