Chapter 9
Elizabeth stood in her apartment, the quiet hum of the city outside her window a distant murmur.
Her mind was a whirl of thoughts, each one vying for attention as she reflected on the previous day at work.
The news of her supposed girlfriend had spread through the office like wildfire, each colleague eager to meet the mysterious woman who had captured Elizabeth’s heart.
Elizabeth had been trying to put a positive spin on it, convincing herself that this would be an opportunity rather than an ordeal.
The retirement party would be a test, a chance to see if Kelsey could hold her own among her coworkers, many of whom would be at the wedding.
It was a dress rehearsal of sorts, a way to gauge how Kelsey would interact with the people who mattered most in her professional life.
Elizabeth’s mind was already racing with the potential pitfalls and awkward encounters that could arise, but she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the benefits of tonight.
If Kelsey could navigate this party well and they could get some introductions out of the way, then Grace’s wedding might just be a walk in the park.
The thought brought a small, determined smile to her lips as she stood in her apartment, the silence punctuated only by the distant hum of the city outside her window.
The quiet rap of knuckles against her door snapped Elizabeth back to the present.
She smoothed a hand down the front of her blazer, feeling the crisp fabric beneath her fingertips as she crossed the hardwood floor.
The city lights twinkled beyond the windows, casting faint reflections across the apartment’s clean lines.
Her pulse thrummed just slightly faster than usual as she reached for the handle, cool against her palm, and drew a slow, deliberate breath before turning it.
Tonight would require every ounce of her practiced composure.
She had called down to the front desk an hour earlier, her voice crisp as she instructed the doorman to send Kelsey straight up when she arrived.
Now, Kelsey stood framed in the doorway, the soft glow from the hallway lights catching the golden strands of her hair, and Elizabeth’s breath caught sharply in her chest, her fingers tightening imperceptibly around the edge of the door.
The emerald silk of Kelsey’s jumpsuit shimmered faintly in the dimness, draping over her shoulders in elegant folds that Elizabeth couldn’t help but trace with her gaze.
The sight was unexpected—not just the transformation from casual barista to this polished vision, but the way it sent a sudden, unwelcome jolt through Elizabeth’s carefully maintained composure.
She could feel her pulse thrumming at the base of her throat, too fast, too noticeable, and she swallowed against the dryness that had settled there.
The silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of the elevator down the hall and the faint rustle of Kelsey shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
Elizabeth’s mind, usually so quick to categorize and assess, stalled momentarily—just long enough for her to register the way Kelsey’s fingers curled lightly around the strap of her small clutch, the way her lips parted slightly as if she, too, was waiting for Elizabeth to say something, anything.
Her analytical brain kicked in immediately, not with emotion, but with assessment. Kelsey was an objectively beautiful woman. It was a clean, undeniable data point. That’s all this was.
“Hi,” Elizabeth managed. “You’re right on time.”
Kelsey grinned. “Hey,” she said, her voice warm with amusement, “well I know how you love punctuality.” Her fingers tapped once against her clutch, a nervous tell Elizabeth noted immediately before filing away.
She stepped aside, allowing Kelsey to enter the apartment. “Would you like a drink before we go?” Elizabeth offered, her voice steady despite the sudden dryness in her throat.
Kelsey accepted with a smile, her eyes taking in the apartment with a curious gleam.
Elizabeth watched her, a small part of her relaxing as she remembered how well Kelsey had handled Scott at that Irish bar.
Kelsey had a way of fitting in, of making people believe she belonged.
That was what mattered tonight. Her colleagues needed to see that Elizabeth was settled, happy, and moving on from Grace.
If Kelsey could convince them, then the wedding really would be a breeze.
Elizabeth poured the wine, the cool glass settling firmly in her grip before she passed it to Kelsey.
Her eyes traced the sweep of emerald silk over Kelsey’s shoulder, the precise drape at her waist. The words formed before she could qualify them.
“You look… different.” It was a statement of fact, not a compliment, but Kelsey’s smile widened nonetheless.
“Different good, I hope,” Kelsey replied, taking a sip of her wine. Her eyes met Elizabeth’s over the rim of the glass, a spark of something unreadable in their depths.
“Definitely.” Elizabeth’s lips curved into a small, rueful smile as she admitted, “I’m sorry about the last-minute notice.
I didn’t realize the rumor mill would churn quite so fast.” She took a sip of her wine, the cool liquid grounding her as she met Kelsey’s gaze.
“You were the hot topic of office gossip yesterday. My colleagues are practically salivating at the thought of meeting you.”
Kelsey’s laughter was soft and genuine, her shoulders relaxing as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “So, you had no choice but to bring me, huh?” Her tone was light, teasing, and it drew an unexpected smile from Elizabeth.
“Something like that,” Elizabeth conceded, her voice warm with amusement. She set her glass down. “But really, this is a good opportunity for us. A practice run before the wedding. We’ll get some introductions out of the way tonight, make things easier for the weekend.”
Kelsey nodded, her expression thoughtful as she took a sip of wine. “Makes sense. The more people who see us together before the wedding, the better.”
“Exactly,” Elizabeth agreed, her voice firm with resolve. “Tonight is about selling the story. Making sure everyone believes that we’re happy, that we’re...” She paused, the word sticking in her throat for a moment before she forced it out, “In love.”
Kelsey’s smile softened, her eyes holding Elizabeth’s with an intensity that was almost unnerving. “We can do that,” she said, her voice steady and sure. “We can make them believe it.”
Elizabeth nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her.
This was a business arrangement, a contract, and Kelsey was approaching it with the same seriousness that Elizabeth did.
It was a partnership, and for the first time since this crazy plan had begun, Elizabeth felt like they might actually pull it off.
Kelsey set her wine glass on the counter and straightened, the silk shifting across her collarbones. “So. Anything I should know about tonight? Who’s the guest of honor? What’s the vibe? Who should I charm first?”
Good. Elizabeth appreciated her strategic approach to the evening.
She unlocked her phone, scrolling through her camera roll until she found the firm’s last holiday party.
James in a navy suit, silver hair swept back, laughing at something off-camera with a scotch in his hand. She turned the screen toward Kelsey.
Elizabeth turned the phone screen toward Kelsey, letting the image speak first—James Harrington in his navy suit, silver hair perfectly groomed, caught mid-laugh with a tumbler of scotch in hand. The kind of effortless confidence that came with forty-two years at the top of his game.
“James Harrington,” she said, her thumb brushing the edge of the screen almost unconsciously. “Founding partner.” She watched Kelsey’s eyes trace the lines of his face, the way her fingers twitched like she wanted to zoom in.
The memory rose without permission. James leaning against her office doorframe twenty years ago, sleeves rolled up, telling the other partners she was “exactly the kind of fire we need on the tenth floor.” Back when most of them thought she was too aggressive.
“He hired me as a second-year associate,” she continued, the words coming slower now. “When no one else would.” The weight of that debt settled between her ribs, familiar and unshakable. She cleared her throat. “And now he’s retiring.”
Kelsey nodded slowly, thumb hovering near the screen like she wanted to zoom in. “He sounds like he matters to you.”
Elizabeth took the phone back. “He does.”
A beat of quiet. Kelsey twisted one of her rings, the thin silver band catching light from the pendant lamp above the counter.
“Is there any chance Grace will be there?”
The name landed like a stone dropped into still water. Elizabeth’s jaw tightened before she could stop it, the familiar clench behind her molars.
“It’s possible. She worked with James for years.
But the wedding is a week out.” She kept her voice level, measured.
The voice she used when a judge asked a question she didn’t love.
“I’d imagine she’s buried in final details.
Seating charts, florist emergencies. The things that consume people before weddings. ”
Hopefully.
“Can I see a photo? Just so I’m not caught off guard.”
The request landed like a deposition question Elizabeth hadn’t prepared for. Simple, reasonable, and completely disarming.
Her thumb hovered over the search bar in her photos. She hadn’t deleted them. She’d told herself it was because bulk-deleting hundreds of images was tedious, that she’d get to it eventually.
She typed Grace into the search field and the phone did what phones do. It surfaced everything.
Grace at a firm gala in that burgundy dress, her hair pinned up, laughing at something Elizabeth had said. Grace on the balcony of the Amalfi rental, backlit by sunset, wine glass dangling from her fingers. Grace asleep on the couch with a brief half-covering her face, one shoe still on.
Elizabeth’s thumb hesitated over the screen, the familiar ache of nostalgia pressing against her ribs.
She couldn’t show Kelsey the ones that mattered—the ones where Grace’s laughter was still for her, where the wine glass in her hand had been poured by Elizabeth, where the couch they shared was theirs.
She scrolled further, past the Amalfi sunset, past the gala dress, past the quiet domestic moments that now felt like artifacts from another life.
Her finger paused on a photo from their last vacation together, a ski trip to Vermont.
Grace stood in front of a fireplace, cheeks flushed from the cold, holding a mug of something steaming.
Her hair was down, slightly wind-tossed, and she was smiling at the camera with that easy, practiced warmth that had once been Elizabeth’s alone.
She turned the screen toward Kelsey.
Kelsey’s gaze lingered on Grace’s face, her eyes tracing the contours of her features. “She’s pretty,” she said, her voice neutral, but Elizabeth detected a flicker of curiosity beneath the surface.
Kelsey’s gaze stayed on the photo a beat longer than necessary. Then she straightened, and something shifted in her expression. Not jealousy, exactly. More like a recalibration.
“Okay. So I know the guest of honor, I know what Grace looks like. What about the rest? If this is a work event, I assume you want us to be subtle. No overt displays of affection.”
Elizabeth locked her phone. The screen went dark, taking Grace’s face with it.
“Yes and no.” Elizabeth set her phone down on the counter. “These are lawyers. They read subtext for a living. We can’t be too distant.”
She crossed to the window.
“What we need is…” She paused, searching for the right legal framework. “Plausible intimacy. The small things couples do without thinking. Standing close. A hand on the small of my back when we’re talking to someone. Me touching your arm when I’m making a point.”
Behind her, Kelsey’s reflection appeared in the darkened glass. The emerald jumpsuit made her look so much more sophisticated. It was disorienting.
“Eye contact,” Kelsey added. Her voice was quieter now, thoughtful. “People in love look at each other differently. Like the other person is the most interesting thing in the room.”
Elizabeth turned. Kelsey stood with her wine glass cradled in both hands, backlit by the kitchen’s recessed lighting. Her expression was open, earnest in a way that made Elizabeth’s chest tighten.
“Exactly.” The word came out rougher than intended. She cleared her throat.
“So we don’t force it.” Kelsey set her glass down with a soft clink. “We just… be natural. Like at the bar with Scott.”
Natural. Elizabeth almost laughed. Nothing about this situation was natural.
She was forty-eight years old, standing in her apartment with a thirty-one-year-old barista, preparing to parade her as a girlfriend to convince a room full of legal professionals that Elizabeth had successfully moved on from her ex-wife.
But Kelsey was right. At O’Neill’s, when Kelsey had put her hand on Elizabeth’s knee, when she’d leaned in close and whispered that instruction to check her out, it had felt… easy. Disturbingly so.
“Natural,” Elizabeth echoed. She picked up her wine glass, drained the last swallow. “We should go. Don’t want to be late.”
Kelsey smiled at that last comment, and Elizabeth had a strange feeling that this was all going to work out.