Chapter 23
INA
Ipoured myself a second glass of wine, which I had dubbed the “feeling sorry for myself” Pinot Grigio. I had picked it up from the corner store on my way home, so the quality was questionable. It was better than box wine but that was about all it had going for it.
I was pouting and sulking. I couldn’t even really explain why I was pouting. There were just too many emotions running through me to put my finger on just one.
Disappointment. Sadness. Hurt.
All because my fake boyfriend didn’t actually like me.
It was the most ridiculous emotional breakdown ever. I had zero reason to feel bad. Zero. None. He never promised me anything. In fact, it was made very clear from the start that there would never be anything between us.
I just had to get over it.
I sipped the wine and stared at the wall.
And then the buzzer for the door cut through my pity party.
My heart did a stupid, hopeful leap.
Maybe it was Dane, coming to tell me he couldn’t stop thinking about Saturday either. That he didn’t care about the professional boundaries or any of the hundred reasons we shouldn’t be together.
I pressed the intercom button, trying not to sound too eager. “Hello?”
“Ina! Thank God you’re home. Buzz me up, we don’t have much time.”
Not Dane. Lucas.
I pressed the button to unlock the door, wondering how and why Lucas would be at my place. I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. He was apparently taking them two at a time.
I opened the door to find Lucas breathing heavily and carrying what appeared to be a garment bag. There were several shopping bags that were threatening to slip from his grip.
“Walkups are the devil’s work,” he gasped, stumbling past me into my apartment without waiting for an invitation. “Five flights. Five. I’m going to die. The Stairmaster lied to me. It is not the same.”
“Lucas, what—”
“No time for questions.” He deposited everything on my couch and turned to face me, hands on his hips, still breathing hard with a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. “You’re going to an event tonight.”
I laughed. “No, I’m not. I’m staying in with my wine and watching garbage on Netflix.”
“Wrong.” He unzipped the garment bag with a flourish, revealing a floor-length gown in a gorgeous and eye-catching sapphire blue.
My mouth hung open as he pulled it from the bag. “Lucas, what is that?”
“It’s a gown, sweetie.”
I shook my head. “No shit, but I mean why are you bringing me a gown?”
“You’re going to the gala to surprise Dane.”
My laughter died in my throat. “I’m sorry, what?”
“The gala. The one where Dane is currently being paraded around as the city’s Most Eligible Bachelor while looking absolutely miserable.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off the dress. I knew it was expensive and it was absolutely gorgeous.
“That looks small.”
He winked. “It’s a bodycon, girl. It’s supposed to look small.”
“Is it a corset top?”
He grinned. “Nope but it looks like it, right? The sales lady promised me there is plenty of room to breathe in this thing.”
“Good, I rather enjoy breathing,” I muttered.
“I guessed your size. I know this will fit.”
“You can’t just guess a woman’s size.”
He lowered his chin and gave me a look. “I can. Come on, we need to get you ready.”
“Lucas, I can’t just show up at a gala.”
“You can and you will.” He was already digging through the shopping bags, pulling out a pair of strappy and very sparkling heels.
Another bag contained jewelry that was also sparkly, and I hoped fake.
I could not be walking around wearing that much wealth.
“We have exactly ninety minutes to transform you into the woman who’s going to make every person in that ballroom jealous. ’”
“This is insane. Dane doesn’t want me there. He would have asked me if he did.”
“Dane is an idiot.” Lucas said it so matter-of-factly that I almost laughed again. “He’s so busy trying to protect you and maintain professional boundaries and do the ‘right thing’ that he’s completely missing the obvious solution.”
“Which is?” I asked.
“Stop pretending this is fake and just be together.” He gestured at me, like he was shooing me away. “Look, I know this seems crazy. And it is crazy. But I’ve known Dane since we were kids.”
“Wait, really?”
Lucas paused in his whirlwind of activity.
“Yep. Dane and I met when we were eleven. He’d just moved here from Ireland, and you could barely understand him with that thick accent.
He was getting his ass kicked by some older kids outside our building.
I helped him out. Well, I ran and got my dad, who was a cop, but still. We’ve been friends ever since.”
I sat down on the couch because my legs simply refused to hold me up. “He said you were friends for a while, but I thought he meant high school or college.”
“Nope. I was there from the beginning. Watched him teach himself to hide his accent, watched him transform from this scared, confused kid into the person he thought he needed to be to survive in New York.” Lucas started setting up what appeared to be a full makeup station on my coffee table.
“And don’t get me wrong. He’s a genius at the business stuff.
The man built an incredible company, made more money than either of us ever dreamed of when we were kids sharing comic books and stealing candy from the bodega. ”
I frowned. “I’m sensing there’s a ‘but’ coming?”
“But somewhere along the way, he convinced himself that love wasn’t real. That it was just a necessary lie people tell themselves to enter into a transactional relationship.”
“Ugh,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Dane has told me about that theory before.”
“He decided love was just a product he could package and sell without ever experiencing it himself.” Lucas looked at me, and his expression was uncharacteristically serious.
“He built Cupid’s Arrow because he’s good at seeing patterns and understanding what makes people compatible. But he left out one crucial thing.”
“What?”
“That sometimes love just happens,” he said simply.
“No amount of data or algorithms or careful planning can account for the moment you meet someone who completely upends everything you thought you knew about yourself.” He smiled.
“That’s what you did to him, Ina. You walked into his life with your ridiculous pink mug and your genuine kindness and your belief in magic.
I suspect you’re what he never knew he wanted, until you arrived. ”
Tears prickled at my eyes. “He told me love isn’t real. That it’s just compatibility metrics and mutual benefit.”
“That might be true for some people, but not for everyone. Not for you and Dane.” Lucas handed me a tissue. “Don’t cry. I don’t want you to have puffy eyes.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You really think it’s a good idea for me to show up to the gala tonight?”
“Absolutely,” he said, gripping my hand. “And not just because it’ll be great for Cupid’s Arrow. You’re going to remind Dane why he fell for you in the first place.”
“Lucas, he’s going to be furious.”
“He’s going to be thrilled. Trust me. I’ve known him for twenty-five years. I know the difference between Dane protecting himself and Dane protecting someone he cares about.”
“He doesn’t care about me,” I said quietly. “He’s attracted to me.”
“I can see one reason you two are so compatible. You both overanalyze things to death.” Lucas held his hand up.
“No more of that. Come on. Dress first, then hair and makeup. I called in a favor with a friend who’s a stylist and she gave me explicit instructions on how to do a smokey eye.
The lady at the makeup counter gave me all the stuff we need to make you look like a model. ”
“Maybe let me handle my makeup,” I said, edging back.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Can I just say, when you two get married and have a ridiculous fairy-tale wedding that makes everyone cry, I expect to be best man. Put in the good word for me.”
I laughed. “You would like my roommate, Abby.”
“Sit. Let’s prettify you.”
For the next hour, Lucas transformed me with surprising skill.
He twisted my hair into an elegant updo, leaving a few strategic pieces to frame my face.
I let him take a crack at my makeup too, and he had a surprisingly steady hand and delicate touch.
It was more dramatic than I usually wore, with smoky eyes, defined cheekbones, lips in a shade of red that made me feel powerful and slightly dangerous.
“This isn’t your first time putting makeup on someone,” I said as he added the finishing touches.
“I used to do theater in high school. Costume and makeup crew.” He grinned. “Dane used to give me so much shit about it.”
“Oh my god, I’m a huge theater nerd.” I smiled at him. “What was your favorite high school play?”
“Death of a Salesman,” he said. “Pretty standard stuff, but it’s a classic for a reason. How about you?”
“I think Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“I knew you were a hopeless romantic.” He laughed.
“It’s more of a comedy than a romance,” I said defensively.
“It’s a rom-com,” Lucas said dismissively. “Which just goes to show you they’ve been popular for centuries.” He thrust the dress at me. “Now go put this on, Titania. I want to see if it needs any last-minute adjustments to make you look like a fairy queen.”
I took the dress into my bedroom, my hands shaking slightly. My evening’s plans had taken a drastic turn. I was about to crash a gala I hadn’t been invited to. Surprising my boss who may or may not actually want to see me there felt very risky.
I put the dress on carefully, not wanting to pop a seam. To Lucas’s credit, it fit perfectly once it was on, hugging my curves in all the right places while still being elegant enough for a formal event.
I looked at myself in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back.
The silky satin was actually very soft and comfortable.
The bodice was snug but thank god it wasn’t actually boning and more of a soft ribbon that gave the illusion of a corset.
The dress cinched my waist and boosted my boobs up.
Evening, ladies. Looking good.
The spaghetti straps needed a little adjusting, but other than that, it was fit for a fairy queen indeed. The hem skated across the floor. Once I put the heels on, it would be perfect. I took a few steps around the room, admiring how I looked.
“Is that good silence or bad silence?” Lucas called from the living room.
I walked out, feeling self-conscious, but Lucas’s face lit up.
“Good silence. It’s absolutely perfect.” He circled me, checking the fit, then nodded in satisfaction. “You’re going to pierce some hearts tonight like you’re Cupid’s Arrow itself.”
“I’m still not convinced this is a good idea.”
“Good thing I’m convinced enough for both of us.” He stepped back, surveying his work. “Okay. Jewelry, shoes, and then we need to go. The car is waiting downstairs.”
“The car?”
“Did you expect a horse-drawn carriage?” Lucas grinned. “I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
“No, I was thinking more like the subway.”
“In that dress and this jewelry?” He fastened a delicate necklace around my neck, simple but elegant, probably also hideously expensive. “I called for a car. It’s on the company card. Dane won’t care, once he sees you.”
I slipped on the heels, which were surprisingly comfortable despite being four inches tall. Lucas handed me a small clutch purse.
I looked at myself in the mirror one more time. The woman looking back was sophisticated, confident, beautiful in a way that felt both foreign and right.
“What if this is a mistake?” I whispered.
Lucas appeared behind me in the mirror, his hands on my shoulders.
“Then it’s a mistake you’ll regret less than not taking the chance.
” He squeezed gently. “Dane is lonely, Ina. He’s been lonely his whole life, even when he’s surrounded by people.
Even when he’s successful and rich and has everything he thought he wanted.
I think he needs you. And he needs us to save him from himself. ”
He handed me my coat. “Now let’s go. There’s fashionably late and then there’s just plain late, and we’re edging on that second one.”
The car ride to the gala was a blur. Lucas kept up a steady stream of encouraging commentary, occasionally adjusting my hair, making sure everything was perfect.
“Remember, you belong here. You’re not crashing. You’re arriving. There’s a difference.”
“Lucas, I don’t know.”
“Well, I do know. So trust me.”
The car pulled to a stop and a valet was right there to open the door.
“Go get him!” Lucas said with a laugh.
I let the valet take my hand and help me out of the car.
“Here goes nothing,” I muttered to myself as I walked up the three stairs to the grand entrance.