12. Belle #2
"The key," she tells us as she pulls potential dresses for my consideration, "is finding pieces that complement each other without looking like you planned every detail. You want to appear naturally harmonious."
Natural harmony. I like the sound of that, probably because it describes what Adam and I actually have when we're not trying to force romance into the equation.
The first dress Julia brings me is stunning, it’s a deep emerald green silk that brings out my eyes and fits like it was designed specifically for my body. But when I emerge from the dressing room, both Adam and Julia immediately shake their heads.
"Too formal," Julia declares. "Beautiful, but it overwhelms your natural warmth."
"Agreed," Adam says. "You look amazing, but you also look like someone else entirely."
The second dress is better, it’s a midnight blue with intricate beadwork that catches the light when I move. But again, something feels off.
"The color is perfect," Julia muses, "but the style is too mature. We need something that feels more... you."
It's the fourth dress that changes everything.
The moment Julia brings it out, I know it's different.
It's rose gold, a color I never would have chosen for myself with a fitted bodice that emphasizes my curves without making me self-conscious about them.
The skirt flows in layers of silk and tulle that move like water when I walk, and the overall effect is both elegant and playful.
When I step out of the dressing room, Adam's reaction is immediate and genuine.
"Oh," he says, and then stops talking entirely.
"What do you think?" I ask, turning slowly so he can see the full effect.
"I think..." Adam pauses, searching for words. "I think you look like yourself, but the most beautiful version of yourself possible."
The compliment hits me harder than it should, partly because Adam's never seen me in anything more formal than work clothes, and partly because the way he's looking at me right now feels different than his usual friendly appreciation.
"Really?"
"Really. You look..." He shakes his head, apparently giving up on finding adequate words. "You look perfect."
Julia beams at both of us like we've just validated her professional expertise. "I love it when couples have that moment of recognition. You can see it in their faces, that's when they know they've found the right look."
Looking at myself in the boutique's mirrors, I understand what she means. This dress doesn't just fit my body, but my personality too. I feel confident and beautiful and like myself, just amplified.
"We'll take this one," Adam tells Julia without even glancing at the price tag.
I want to shake my head and tell him it's too much, that I could never afford something like this on my librarian's salary, but I learned long ago not to argue with Adam's generosity.
When he decides to spoil me with professional baking equipment or designer gowns, there's no point in protesting.
His family's wealth means that what feels impossibly expensive to me is barely a blip in his budget, and he genuinely enjoys being able to share that privilege with someone he cares about.
Adam's tuxedo selection goes more smoothly, partly because men's formal wear offers fewer variables, and partly because Adam has the kind of classic good looks that make almost anything look elegant.
We settle on a charcoal gray tuxedo with rose gold accents that complement my dress without looking overly coordinated.
"You two are going to be absolutely stunning," Julia gushes as she rings up our purchases. "That ball is lucky to have such a beautiful couple who are going to shine!"
Shine and me, don’t usually fall into the same sentence. As we leave the boutique, bags in hand and significantly lighter in the wallet department, I feel a warm glow at the idea of it. I can’t believe I didn’t want to go, but there’s a wave of excitement about the idea of it all.
"I can't believe we just did that," I tell Adam as we walk down the busy city street. "I feel like we're actually going to pull this off."
"The fake dating or the ball attendance?"
"Both. All of it. For the first time since we got those invitations, I'm actually excited instead of just terrified,” I confess.
“The dress definitely helps," Adam agrees as he holds my hand, but not as we’ve been practicing as a couple, but more as the friend he is. "You really do look amazing in it."
"You clean up pretty well yourself, Chen. I never thought someone like me could be beautiful, but now it is as if I've found a new me, something I didn't think was possible."
Adam pauses, as if he is observing me. "Why do you always sell yourself short? You hide behind oversized sweaters, but you really don't need makeup or a fancy dress to be beautiful. You are naturally beautiful."
I feel my face growing red as I try to reply to him, but instead my voice is a mere whisper. "Thanks."
We're so focused on complimenting each other, that we almost don't notice the three men approaching from the opposite direction until we're practically face-to-face with them.
Marcus Sterling, Felix Romano, and Theo Blackwood. The infamous "Beast Pack" of Willowbrook, looking like they've stepped out of some urban fantasy novel about dangerous men in expensive clothes.
But before I can react, Marcus Sterling does something completely unexpected.
He smiles.
And that's when it hits me. Their scent.
All three of them. Even through my suppressants, I can smell them clearly: Marcus's rich cedar and leather, Felix's warm vanilla and spice, Theo's crisp pine and something darker underneath.
My suppressants have never failed me before, but standing this close to them, it's like they don't work at all.
The realization makes my heart race with a mixture of panic and something else I don't want to examine too closely.
"Miss Hartwell," Marcus says with genuine warmth. "Good to see you in the city. I hope you're finding everything you need."
"Mr. Sterling," I manage, surprised by his friendliness and trying to ignore the way their combined scents are making me feel slightly dizzy. "Yes, we're just... shopping."
"For the ball, I assume?" Felix Romano adds, and there's something knowing in his expression that makes me wonder exactly how much he observes during his architectural consultations.
"You two are attending the masquerade?" Theo Blackwood asks, and he sounds genuinely pleased rather than surprised or judgmental.
"We are," Adam confirms, squeezing my hand in what I assume is meant to be a supportive gesture but which also reinforces our couple charade.
“Great!” Marcus says, and he actually sounds like he means it. "You'll have an incredible time. The palace is spectacular during the ball, and the organizers always create something truly magical."
"You sound as if you know them, and as if you’ve been before,” I observe.
"Not personal experience," Felix says carefully. "But we... appreciate good event planning."
There's something in his tone that suggests there's more to the story, but before I can analyze it further, Theo changes the subject.
"Miss Hartwell, I hope the library expansion planning is going well. Felix speaks very highly of your vision for the project."
I'm sure that I told him to call me Belle. No one calls me by my last name, but when he does it, something inside me changes, a shift. It's not only their scent, but there's something else I can't put my finger on.
"Great!" I reply, grateful for the safer topic. "Mr. Romano has some brilliant ideas for integrating modern functionality with historical preservation."
Well, if he's going to use last names, then I will do the same. But my voice is stuck in my throat. The words that usually flow out of me become stuck.
"Felix does excellent work," Marcus says with obvious pride in his pack mate. "The community is lucky to have his expertise."
"Speaking of community," Adam interjects, apparently feeling confident enough to join the conversation, "will we see you three at the ball? It would be nice to have familiar faces there."
The question is innocent enough, but the reaction it provokes is immediate and telling. All three men exchange glances that speak of shared frustration and disappointment.
"We won't be attending," Marcus says simply, but there's an edge to his voice that suggests this is a sensitive topic.
"That doesn't seem fair," I say before I can stop myself.
"I mean, look at all the people who received invitations this year.
Claire Mitchell from the flower shop works sixteen-hour days creating the most beautiful arrangements for everyone's special moments, bringing joy to people during their happiest and saddest times.
She absolutely deserves to experience something magical for herself.
And Dr. James Rodriguez? That man has delivered half the babies in this town and stayed up countless nights saving lives.
If anyone has earned a night of enchantment, it's him. "
I notice Adam's hand slip away from mine, but I can't seem to stop myself. This is exactly what happens around these three men, I either say nothing at all or I can't shut up. There's no middle ground.
"Then there are the Walsh twins at the auto shop.
Those two have helped every single person in Willbrook at some point, whether it's a midnight breakdown or fixing someone's car for free when money's tight.
They're the first to volunteer for community events and never ask for anything in return.
And Emma Thompson! She's shaped the minds of practically every child in this town for the past fifteen years, staying after school to help struggling students, buying supplies with her own money.
She may be quiet, but she's had an enormous impact on our community. "