Thirty-two
Ellory
I ’m in the first-floor ladies’ room at City Hall, caught somewhere between glam and chaos.
Strangers wander in and out, trying to make sense of the scene.
My head is a pincushion of bobby pins as a hairstylist tames my curls while a makeup artist airbrushes a new face onto mine.
But under the surface, my nerves spark. This campaign is everything.
If it lands, it could rewrite my entire future. If it doesn’t…
I’m bored out of my mind when my phone pings.
Patrice: Are you still up for lunch today with your hot boyfriend?
Oh crap. I forgot.
Me: I’m so sorry. Got pulled into something. If you’re free, meet me at City Hall. Sophie will be here too.
Patrice: OMG. Do you need a witness? I’ll be your witness.
Witness? Wait— Oh. Not that kind of witness.
Me: No witness needed. But you should definitely come. I think you’ll be glad you did.
Patrice: If you and Matteo are eloping, I’m going to be so mad. We didn’t even get a bachelorette. I want to be a bridesmaid.
Me: P, I swear. He hasn’t even proposed. We’re nowhere near that. Just drama at the store. Come.
Patrice: When should I come by?
Me: I’m here until about two. You won’t be able to miss me.
The glam squad finishes, and I’m ushered into a makeshift changing room. With help from the photographer’s assistant and Felicity Ford’s rep, I step into the dress.
“Wow, this thing is stiff,” I mutter, trying not to wrinkle it before I even make it down the stairs.
“We had it cleaned and pressed,” one of them says. “It looks phenomenal on you.”
I blush. “Thank you. I’m just glad the buttons were able to be reattached.”
I can’t miss the way Dante and Felicity Ford light up the set—every look, every laugh between them feeding the energy of the shoot. Their collaboration has turned today into something unforgettable.
“There’s a very handsome man waiting outside in a tux,” Larkin says. She’s running the show today, and I’m grateful because I’d have no idea what the right moves are without her.
I laugh. “My friend is on her way and already convinced I’m getting married. People are totally going to think I’m a runaway bride in red.”
The photographer assistant giggles. “That is definitely the vibe.”
We all laugh, but nerves flutter through me like fish out of water as I step outside.
Matteo leans against a Roman column, and when he looks up and smiles—God help me—I nearly melt. The tux, the red bowtie, that mess of curls falling onto his forehead, the kissable five-o’clock shadow…
“You look stunning,” he says with a wink. “I can’t believe Larkin talked me into this photo shoot.”
“These are your diamonds,” Larkin snarks. “If I could have had all your brothers here, I would.”
“None of them would have looked as good as I do,” Matteo replies.
“You’re such a flirt. But you don’t look half-bad yourself.”
Tristan Whitmore, the photographer, claps his hands. “Let’s start with Cinderella-at-midnight vibes. Couples first, then solos.”
The white marble stairs are roped off just for us. The shoot begins. Matteo and I pose together, apart, entwined. I gaze at him. I look away. I smile. I smolder. I stare dramatically into the distance while thousands of shutter clicks capture every angle.
Tristan coos. “The chemistry between you two is off the charts!”
After two hours, my feet are screaming.
“How are you holding up?” Matteo asks.
“My feet hate me.”
He shrugs. “Take them off.”
“I can’t.”
He turns to Tristan. “Her feet hurt. Can she go barefoot?”
“Sure, why not? I think we have some slippers somewhere.” He motions to one of his assistants.
Matteo kneels and slips off my heels like we’re in a real-life fairy tale, and the camera goes wild. I hold the shoes in a few shots before we break for touch-ups.
“Let’s freshen makeup and move to the grass!” Tristan calls out.
I slip into a pair of cheap flip-flops and instantly feel like myself again. Sophie and Patrice come running over.
Patrice squeezes my hands, her grin unstoppable. “I can’t believe I get to witness this. You—stunning in Night to Remember , Matteo looking like every woman’s fantasy, and the Fire and Ice launch about to make history. This is your moment, Ellory. And I am so damn proud of you.”
“Oh my God!” Sophie gasps, stopping just short of hugging me. “You look incredible.”
“That dress,” Patrice says, circling. “And the jewelry. These are going to be everywhere.”
“How long have you been here?”
“We got here together,” Patrice says, glancing at her phone. “Over an hour ago. It flew by.”
“I’m so glad you’re here, and sorry again about lunch. But we’re going out after if you’re up for it.”
“Definitely.” Patrice eyes me playfully.
I look at Sophie. “How was your date with that Accurate Software guy.”
She snorts. “He gave me five bucks for coffee and told me I was too fat to be seen with.”
My stomach turns. “What?”
She shrugs. “If a guy wants a thigh gap, I’m not his girl. I love my curves.”
“Fuck him,” Matteo growls. “Beauty fades. If he’s that shallow, he’ll always be looking for the next shiny thing.”
“I’d swear you two were getting married,” Patrice says.
“Same,” Sophie chimes in.
Matteo’s head snaps up, eyes wide with panic.
Patrice catches the look. “Relax. She wouldn’t tell me a thing. Just said to come to City Hall.”
Matteo exhales, visibly relieved. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“We were trying to keep the shoot under wraps,” I explain. “Everyone here thinks we’re getting married.”
“In a red dress?” Patrice laughs.
“I overheard a woman say she wished she’d had the guts to wear red to her wedding because it was a total massacre,” Matteo adds.
We all crack up.
Tristan strolls over and studies Patrice. I introduce Patrice to Tristan.
“Any relation to Moses Wolfe?”
“He’s my cousin.”
His eyes light up. “Stick around. I’d love to chat more.”
Patrice mouths to me, “He is so freaking hot.”
Tristan calls out, “Let’s wrap before the rain hits! Just a few walking shots on the lawn.”
Matteo and I hold hands and walk. I twirl while Tristan directs, his camera clicking non-stop.
Finally, he lowers it. “That’s a wrap. You two crushed it. Thank you!”
Patrice slides in beside me. “Mind if I invite him for drinks?”
Matteo kisses my cheek. “If I leave now, I can be at your place by seven-thirty.”
“Give Amelia a big kiss for me.”
He leans in again, the kiss warm and promising, electric in the best way.
“What are you doing at seven-thirty?” Patrice teases.
“He comes by after he puts Amelia to bed,” I say.
“But no sleepovers?” Sophie presses.
I shake my head. “Nope. He needs to feed her around eleven and gives the nanny the night off.”
“So noble,” Patrice smirks. “But more importantly—does he know what he’s doing with what’s in his pants?”
I shrug. “I’m not one to kiss and tell.”
“You have all those rooms in your house,” Patrice points out. “Why don’t you make one a nursery?”
“Yes. Why not?” Sophie asks.
I hadn’t thought about it. “I need to get changed so I can eat something and we can toast to today finally being over.”
“Fine,” Patrice pretends like she’s insulted. “I’ll flirt with Tristan while you change, or maybe you should wear that dress to the bar.”
“You didn’t say anything about the necklace.” I show it off.
“It’s stunning. I already told you. I’m buying one of the limited editions.”
I duck into the bathroom, wash off the makeup, change back into my real-world clothes, and return to find Patrice and Sophie deep in conversation with Richard about the dress.
“He already gave it to Duane to return to your place,” Sophie says. “And we’re going to Sugar Lounge. They have my favorite apple mojito.”
“Perfect. I’m starving, and they have fantastic happy hour snacks.”
Richard drives us. Sophie sits up front. She’s had a thing for him forever, but he’s never made a move. Now that she’s single, it’s his time to act or it’s his loss. Sophie’s a catch.
He drops us off and gives me that classic don’t-be-stupid look. I nod. I won’t.
Inside, we score a great table and order drinks. As soon as the server walks away, Patrice grabs my arm.
“Spill. All of it.”
“About…”
“Matteo, obviously. He looked so hot. If I were you, I would’ve dry-humped him on the marble stairs.”
“I thought about it,” I tease. “But he’s got his hands full with Amelia’s mom, and the prep for the launch has been insane.”
“That dress, though.”
“MOMA in New York wants it for display.”
“Seriously? That’s amazing. Otherwise, what would you do with it after it’s been on every billboard and bus bench all over the country?”
I grin. “My dad wasn’t a fan, but it makes the jewelry pop. It was a bargain. But I may wear it a few times and let MOMA display it.”
We clink glasses. “To having sex in this city!”
Patrice leans in. “Now stop dodging. Back to Matteo.”
“There’s not much to tell. We see each other a few nights a week. No sleepovers.”
“Do you feel used?” she asks softly.
“No. We’re serious…just not that serious.” Or maybe I’m just afraid to ask what we really are. Maybe I don’t want to hear that he’s not ready for more.
“Any word from Heather?” Sophie asks.
“She came back to his place after she was arraigned and picked up her stuff and left her house key behind. I don’t think my dad ever promised her anything. She just heard what she wanted to hear.”
“You should tell her to get a real job.”
I laugh. “At her old company? That’d be hysterical. They don’t design a damn thing. They order from catalogs and mark everything up three hundred percent.”
“Tell us how you really feel,” Sophie deadpans.
“I will. But seriously, thank you both for keeping me sane. Now, let’s get some apps. I’m starving.”
Sophie grins. “Matteo told me you’re only making ten thousand of each design.”
“That’s just the first run,” I say, settling into the director’s chair. “You should definitely get your hands on one from the original batch. We’re making subtle changes so that they all have their own value.”
“I hate to take a paying customer’s spot,” Patrice says.
I laugh. “Please. Heather tried to get me kicked out of the company over this line. She swears it’ll tank the brand. And we’ll find out if she’s right. Plus, there needs to be some advantage for working for the company and being my friend.”
She wraps an arm around my shoulders. “When you release the diamonds and their designs to the world, you’re going to sell out in minutes. Fire and Ice diamonds are going to really put Olivier on the map. Felicity Ford’s show sold out before the show even finished. That has to be a record.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for. Night to Remember in Olivier red? It was meant to be.” I smile, actually reassured.
“I can’t wait to see you in all the magazines. People are going to go nuts.”
“That’s in a few weeks. I told them to make sure they’ve got a backup model. I’m not exactly photogenic.”
“Have you seen what Tristan did today? The man’s getting magic from rocks.”
Sophie picks up her glass. “That shot in the fog? Stunning.”
“I’m so glad he was available.” I relax.
“There was no way I was missing a chance to shoot this dress and those stones!” Tristan says as he walks in with Larkin trailing behind him. He sits down next to Patrice and grins.
I look at Larkin and laugh.
Tristan’s smile lingers a little too long on Patrice, and she tilts her head at him with that mischievous grin of hers. “You know my cousin?” she asks.
“Know him?” Tristan chuckles. “I survived summers at his lake house. Barely.”
The two of them fall into easy back-and-forth, their banter carrying enough heat that Sophie nudges me under the table with her knee. Interesting.
But Sophie’s curiosity can’t be contained for long. She leans toward Larkin, eyes wide with mock outrage. “Okay, you need to explain yourself. How did you get Ellory into that dress? Because honestly, I thought we’d have to drag her into it kicking and screaming.”
Larkin smirks, swirling her drink. “Let’s just say I can be very persuasive. And once she saw Matteo in that tux, resistance was pointless.”
Patrice laughs so hard she nearly spills her wine, and Sophie covers her mouth, trying to stifle her own giggles.
“Traitors,” I mutter, but I can’t help laughing too.
I swirl the straw in my drink, bracing myself as Sophie leans in again. “Seriously though, Ellory. You have to tell us how Larkin pulled it off. You hate being in front of the camera, and tonight, you looked like you were born in that dress.”
I groan, sinking lower into the booth. “Because I did resist. I told her a hundred times I didn’t want to be the face of Fire and Ice. I don’t. I’m not cut out for it.”
“Correction,” Larkin says smoothly, crossing one leg over the other. “You didn’t want to be. But Ellory, you are the reason Fire and Ice even exists. The line was your vision. Those rough diamonds would still be locked away if not for you.”
I shake my head, flustered. “Faith made the dress. Dante brought the designs to life. If anyone deserves the spotlight, it’s them.”
Felicity Ford, who’s been listening from the edge of the group with her usual sharp smile, finally cuts in. “That’s where you’re wrong. Without you, those stones would still be buttons or cufflinks or some afterthought accessory. You made them the centerpiece. You gave them meaning.”
Patrice leans across the table, eyes gleaming. “She’s right. The Fire and Ice line is going to change everything. Younger customers, a fresher market… Olivier is about to breathe again. And it’s because of you.”
The words crash over me all at once, their voices brimming with so much belief, so much certainty, it makes my chest tight. I press a hand to my glass, trying to steady myself. “I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Say thank you,” Sophie teases, “and admit you looked like a goddess next to Matteo.”
My face burns instantly, which only makes them laugh harder.
Larkin grins, her voice cutting through the chaos.
“Ellory, in six months the entire world is going to see you in that dress. They’re going to see the way you and Matteo look at each other, and trust me.
It’s off the charts. So here’s my advice.
” She raises her glass. “Nail him down quickly, before someone else tries to.”
The table erupts into giggles and cheers, and I hide my face in my hands, overwhelmed by the mix of love, pressure, and wild enthusiasm aimed squarely at me.
I’m not sure whether to laugh, cry, or order another drink.