I was over this charity gala and ready for Shane to get on with it. I was done with the fake smiles, awkward small talk, and pretending Shane was tolerable. I've socialized enough. A random lady just told me I was "lucky" to snag him, and I almost spilt the tea about him actually being a psychopath.
Three hours into this gala I was dying of boredom. Speeches, videos, auctions - it all felt like a never-ending snooze fest. I'd rolled my eyes so hard when they thanked him for his "generosity" (gag).
And to make matters worse, Shane had been parading me around like a trophy, introducing me to a never-ending stream of people who were about as interesting as a spreadsheet. I was exhausted from faking smiles and pretending to care. My face was starting to ache from all the forced cheer, and I just wanted to scream 'Can we please just leave already?!'
I took another sip of my wine, savouring the taste that had been absent from my life for a while. It was just what I needed to take the edge off, and I was going to enjoy it - carefully, of course. I had no intention of getting drunk.
My heels were screaming in agony, and the dress felt like it was suffocating my skin. It was clear it wasn't made for me. The way it hugged my curves felt more like a constraint than a compliment.
Would I have to continue donning these restrictive dresses and pretending to be someone I'm not for Shane's events?
I couldn't even imagine, even at the moment,
I stuck out like a worn-out flip-flop at a Jimmy Choo fashion show even in designers that would make a Kardashian jealous.
Everyone here was dripping in wealth and status, showcasing their bling like it was going out of style. And then there was Shane throwing a gala that probably cost more than I could think of. I couldn't help but wonder just how deep his pockets were – and whether he'd need a forklift to carry all his cash.
During cocktail hour, I spotted a stunning redhead speaking to him— probably about business, but I swear, my feet almost betrayed me, carrying me over to her like a magnet. I was this close to approaching her and telling her just how breathtakingly gorgeous she was. The way she carried herself, with confidence had left me feeling a little lightheaded. It was a crime to be that stunning.
Was I gay?
I looked away, lost in thought when Shane's intense stare caught my attention from across the room. His glare was unnervingly unexpected and I accidentally choked on my wine. I shot him a stern look, my eyes meeting his in a silent confrontation.
Why did he always have to be so unnecessarily intense? Didn't he ever get tired of being so brooding all the time? It seemed like a lot of effort to maintain that kind of aura
His business associate was talking to him, but his eyes remained fixed on me. What a weirdo. If he wasn't going to break eye contact, I certainly would.
I started walking away, the wine cup still clutched in my fingers, almost empty. I just wanted to get away from him for the rest of the night. Even if it meant being bored out of my mind.
I scanned the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of my dad or Stephanie, but shane must have deliberately left them off the guest list.
That son of a...
"Ari?" I turned around, my brows furrowed in confusion and promptly face-planted into someone's chest. The impact sent a shockwave through my body, and my wine splattered all over their pristine white suit.
My eyes widened in horror as I gasped, "Holy shit, I'm so fucking sorry!" My hands instinctively flew to my mouth, thinking of how I had just ruined someone's expensive suit. Great first impression, Ari.
I looked up, and my eyes locked – My jaw dropped, and I let out a loud, "LUCAS?!" The room fell silent as everyone turned to stare at me, their faces a mix of shock and disapproval.
Great, just what I needed – a scene.
I felt my face heat up with embarrassment as I whispered, "I'm sorry," trying to apologize to the crowd for the commotion before my attention was already back on Lucas, my ex from college, who I hadn't seen in two years.
What was he doing here?
"Lucas," I repeated, my voice much calmer now. He smiled at me, and I couldn't help but notice how charming it was.
"Lucas" that was the only thing my brain could process at the moment— his name.
Finally, I managed to string together a few more words "What... are you doing here?" My tone came out a bit brusque than I intended, making it sound like I didn't want him around. That wasn't my intention, though – I was just still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my ex was standing in front of me, looking like a million bucks, at Shane's charity gala.
"I could say the same for you," he replied with a weak smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He pulled out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and began to dab at the wine stain I had created on his suit. I felt a pang of guilt and my mind immediately went back to the damage I had done. I almost facepalmed myself – what was wrong with me?
"We should probably get that cleaned," I said, trying to make amends. I took the handkerchief from him and attempted to blot the stain, my fingers brushing against his as I did so.
"It's okay, Ari if it'll ease your conscience, it's not that expensive," Lucas said, trying to reassure me. But my guilt was still simmering, refusing to be so easily placated.
"I'm sorry, I'll get you a new one," I offered, feeling a twinge of responsibility for the ruined suit.
He chuckled and waved his hand, "I said it's fine, stop being so formal and tell me how you've been. It's been what, two years?" He tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket, as he raised his brows at me. The familiarity of his gesture brought back a flood of memories, and I felt a surge of nostalgia wash over me. I hesitated, unsure how to respond.
Yeah, it had been two years since we'd last seen each other. I thought back to when we first met when I was a wide-eyed freshman, eager to spread my wings and taste freedom for the first time. Lucas had been the one who helped me navigate those uncharted waters, showing me what it meant to be carefree. The memories came flooding back, and with them, came a little heartache, a reminder of what we'd shared and what we'd lost.
I felt a lump form in my throat as I looked at Lucas, his eyes still sparkling with warmth and familiarity. "How have you been?" I asked, trying to sound casual and compose myself.
Lucas pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his hooked nose, A gesture so familiar it washed over me like a warm wave of nostalgia "Good, stable, you?" he replied, his voice smooth as silk.
I hesitated for a moment before responding, "Good, stable." The words felt like a lie, though – nothing about this conversation felt stable or good. The silence that followed my response was oppressive, filled with unspoken emotions and unresolved history. Why was this so awkward? We used to be so comfortable with each other, so easy.
The silence between us was like a living, breathing thing, suffocating us. Lucas broke the tension with a warm laugh, his eyes creasing at the corners as he spoke, "You look lovely, by the way." His gaze roamed over me, taking in the dress and the heels, and I felt a flush rise to my cheeks.
It was disconcerting because this wasn't the Aria he used to know. Back then, he'd seen me in my most unglamorous state – jeans, oversized hoodies, and all.
I'd been that one person sitting in the corner of the room, trying to blend into the background. My first year of college had been a mess, and Lucas had been there to witness it all. But now I was suddenly feeling embarrassed. It was like I was reliving all those awkward moments, and his compliment only made me feel more self-conscious.
"Thank you," I murmured, rubbing my arms as if to ward off a chill. It was as if his words had awakened a part of me that I thought I'd left behind.
"Why is this so fucking awkward?" He chuckled again, a sound that made my heart skip a beat.
"Right," My voice was barely above a whisper. "What brings you here?" Curiosity got the better of me.
He gestured to the screen behind him, where the logo "Olivia Home of Hope" was displayed, accompanied by photos of adorable kids. "I work for the company raising funds for the orphanage," he explained, his expression softening. My eyes widened in shock instantly.
Could my life get any more complicated?
The universe had to be playing some kind of sick joke on me – My ex was working for Shane, the guy I was pretending to be engaged to. This was a nightmare.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his eyes expectant. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move or speak. How could I tell him the truth? That I signed a contract with Shane, a man my dad owed 7 billion dollars to? That I'd agreed to a contract marriage with him just to save my family's skin? It sounded like the plot of a bad novel, and I couldn't believe I was living it. And to make matters worse, all of this had happened just five days ago. I was still trying to process it all, and now Lucas was standing in front of me, expecting an answer.
I stuttered, trying to come up with a plausible explanation, but before I could get the words out, Shane's voice sliced through the silence, low and velvety. "Lucas... I see you've met my fiancée." His palm landed on my back, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.
Lucas's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze flicking to Shane's hand on my back before returning to mine. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head, putting two and two together.
"Lucas, meet Shane, Shane, meet Lucas – my... friend,"
Oh, fuck me sideways.