33. Margot
33
MARGOT
I still can't believe I'm engaged. The excitement hums beneath my skin as I watch Grayson across the room, effortlessly charming guests at our engagement party. The Grand Regency Hotel’s ballroom is bathed in golden candlelight, the chandeliers glinting like stars above us. Laughter swirls through the air, blending with the gentle melodies from a live pianist. Champagne bubbles in crystal flutes, and the scent of fresh jasmine and roses lingers in the air.
It’s a picture-perfect night, almost too perfect, considering my life rarely plays by the rules of romance novels. I catch Grayson’s gaze from across the room, and my heart does that annoying fluttering thing it’s been doing ever since he put this ring on my finger. He excuses himself from a conversation and heads straight for me, wearing that signature smirk, the one that promises mischief.
“You’re staring, Evans.” His voice is low and teasing as he stops in front of me. “Miss me already?”
I arch a brow. “I was just wondering if it’s too soon to regret saying yes.”
He chuckles, sliding an arm around my waist. “Too late. You’re stuck with me now.”
I pretend to sigh, tapping my chin. “I don’t know. Maybe we should establish some ground rules. Like, for instance, no more bossing me around at work.”
His smirk deepens. “You mean no more helping you fix your terrible matchmaking instincts?”
I gasp. “Excuse me? My instincts are flawless!”
He leans closer, his breath warm near my ear. “Says the woman who once matched a tech CEO with a meditation influencer because ‘opposites attract.’”
“That was one time,” I grumble.
“And how long did they last?”
“…A week. But that’s beside the point,” I reply.
His laughter is deep, rich, and entirely too distracting. “Face it, Evans. You can’t live without me.”
Before I can fire back, a familiar voice cuts in.
“Oh, for the love of God, can you two stop eye-flirting for five minutes?” I turn just as Elliot appears beside us, his arms crossed in exaggerated exasperation. Tessa stands beside him, looking thoroughly amused.
“You’re just jealous,” I say sweetly.
Elliot sighs dramatically. “Margot, Grayson, look, I love you both, but this engaged version of you is disgustingly adorable, and I simply will not stand for it.”
Tessa nudges him. “Ignore him. We’re actually here to offer you some very important newlywed wisdom.”
“Oh, this should be good.” Grayson folds his arms, looking amused.
Elliot nods solemnly. “First piece of advice, Grayson, whenever Margot starts a sentence with ‘We need to talk,’ immediately fake an emergency. A fire, an earthquake, an alien invasion, doesn’t matter. Just run.”
Grayson chuckles, shaking his head. “That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea.” Elliot sighs. “The other day, Tessa called a ‘serious conversation,’ and do you know what it was about? The correct way to load the dishwasher.”
Tessa glares at him. “Because you do it wrong!”
“There is no wrong way to put dishes in a dishwasher!” Elliot argues, exasperated. “They go in, they get washed, end of discussion!”
“There is absolutely a wrong way,” Tessa counters. “You don’t just throw bowls in randomly like some kind of dishwasher anarchist!”
Elliot turns to Grayson, nodding gravely. “This is your future, my friend. Get out while you still can.”
Grayson smirks. “I think I can handle a few dishwasher debates.”
“Oh, it gets worse.” Elliot sips his champagne. “Wait until you try decorating a shared apartment. I suggested a minimalist, modern look. Do you know what Tessa wanted?”
Tessa grins. “Cozy, warm, lived-in vibes.”
Elliot groans. “Translation: throw pillows. So many damn throw pillows. I can’t even sit on my own couch without moving a mountain of cushions.”
Tessa rolls her eyes. “They make the space inviting.”
“They make me feel like I’m drowning in fluff!” Elliot exclaims. “There is one chair, ONE CHAIR, where I thought I could escape, and guess what? Last week, she added a blanket ladder next to it.”
Grayson chuckles, shaking his head. “Margot already tried sneaking scented candles into my place.”
I glare at him playfully. “Tried? There are currently three in your living room.”
His expression falters. “Wait. Three?”
I grin innocently. “Mm-hmm.”
Elliot pats Grayson on the shoulder. “It’s already begun. The invasion of unnecessary home decor. This is how they win.”
Tessa smirks. “You’ll survive.”
Grayson eyes me, amused. “I’m not sure I will.”
I smirk right back. “Oh, you’ll survive, King. You might even like it.”
Tessa clinks her champagne glass against mine. “You’ll be nesting in no time.”
Grayson exhales dramatically. “So, let me get this straight, marriage means constant debates about home organization and admitting defeat in every argument?”
Elliot nods. “Welcome to the rest of your life.”
Grayson glances at me, eyes filled with amusement and something softer beneath it. “I think I can handle that.”
My heart flutters in response, but before I can say anything, my phone buzzes in my clutch. I pull it out, my stomach tightening as I see the name flashing across the screen. Olivia.
I glance up at Grayson, who immediately picks up on my shift in mood. “What is it?”
I unlock my phone, reading the message, and suddenly, the laughter and warmth of the evening vanish.
Olivia: Margot, we have a problem. Eleanor is making a move. You and Grayson need to see this now. My heart clenches.
Grayson steps closer, sensing the tension in my posture. “Margot?”
I look up at him, my pulse pounding in my ears.
“It’s Eleanor.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “She’s coming for us.”
His easygoing smirk fades instantly, replaced by sharp focus. “What did she do?”
I swallow hard, looking down at the screen again. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, it’s big.”
The champagne in my hand suddenly feels too heavy. The golden glow of the ballroom feels suffocating.
Elliot and Tessa, still laughing moments ago, notice our expressions and instantly sober.
“What’s going on?” Tessa asks.
Grayson exhales sharply. “We’re about to find out.”
And just like that, the warmth of the evening turns ice cold.