Chapter 3
Lucy
Someone needs to tell my fight-or-flight response to calm the heck down. I reach up and finger the edge of my mask. Daisy insisted I use her vintage, off-white lace one. “It matches the dress perfectly,” she’d said. “It would be an honor to have a pretty thing like you wear it.”
I can’t believe I agreed. This is a wedding gown, for crying out loud. I’m not trying to draw attention to myself, but I can feel the stares.
No one knows who you are. I tell myself this over and over again, letting my fingers graze the delicate lace mask and feeling my heartbeat slow. This is fine.
I tune in to the activity of the room around me.
The River Foxes spared no expense for this gala.
There are large fabric swaths in ice blue and white draped tastefully around the room.
Twinkle lights swoop in long lines, crisscrossing the high ceilings, giving the illusion that we’re dining under a star-studded sky.
It makes sense that this event is done up so big.
Tickets were outrageous. Cassie told me her agency was willing to pay, but I didn’t take her up on the offer.
Money isn’t an issue for me. My dad’s life insurance payout made sure I was set for life.
Then, when my stepmom started monetizing her social media and day-in-the-life content, she made sure my stepsisters and I got a fair share of the profits.
As much as I hated the spotlight, it raked in money. A lot of money.
Even if I’m not being featured on the family platforms anymore, I still have my writing income. Thanks to my sweet readers and Cassie’s hard work, I’ve had a lucrative career thus far, and I don’t take it for granted.
I smile up at the waiter who clears my plate. The food was divine, but I only managed to eat a couple bites of my steak before I felt like I might pop a hole in Daisy’s wedding gown. The waistline is tight with a capital T.
I spent the dinner hour chatting with a middle-aged couple from the Chicago area, Adelaide and Clark.
Mostly I asked a few questions, and they were more than happy to launch into their entire life story.
He came from old money, and she grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, but they fell for each other, and together they started what became a wildly successful event management firm.
Their company also had a hand in planning this gala.
“Now, dear.” Adelaide shifts in her chair to address me. I sit up straighter. “We’ve talked your ear off, but we haven’t heard a thing about you. Tell us where you’re from. What brings you out here alone tonight?”
Adelaide looks at me with kind eyes and a soft smile.
Her face mask, the kind that’s on a stick, is propped on the table.
I reach up and touch mine again, needing the reminder that I’m invisible tonight.
I can lie. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
Except my mind is blank. I literally make up worlds and fictional people for a living, and I cannot for the life of me come up with something adequate to tell this woman that will sound believable.
“She came to see me.”
I turn in my seat at the sound of a smooth, deep voice behind me.
“TJ Wilson!” Adelaide squeals, and her husband pushes his chair back and stands to shake hands with the guy who tripped his way across the stage earlier.
He’s obviously a football player. Since I don’t follow the sport or the River Foxes, I don’t know much more than that, but from the way he played to the crowd and sent every woman here into a titter with his comment about being single, I could guess the kind of man he is.
Right now, I don’t really care that he’s a player or a playboy. I’m grateful for the diversion.
He chats easily with Adelaide and Clark for a minute or two, and I get to my feet, even though they’re killing me in these heels, so the four of us are standing together.
“We’ll let you two kids get to it, then.”
Get to what, exactly? I have no clue, but judging by the way Adelaide’s wagging her eyebrows, she thinks there’s some sort of history between TJ and me.
Little does she know that while he may be a strong, sexy sports ball player of some kind, I’m a social media has-been who has never been kissed. Her suggestive eyebrows are misplaced.
Adelaide grabs her mask, holds it up to her face, and wiggles her fingers at me before tucking her hand into the crook of her husband’s elbow and walking off.
I watch them go, aware of TJ’s gaze on my face. My cheeks heat under his stare. I absently touch my temple, making sure my disguise is firmly in place. When I work up the courage to look at him, he’s smiling at me, and I take a beat to size him up.
The guy is built. I don’t know much of anything about football, but if I had to guess, I’d bet on him being someone who bulldozes people.
Is that something that a sports player does?
If not, they should. TJ would be good at it.
The way his shoulders fill out his suit coat should be illegal.
His tailor better be on speed dial because the stitching looks dangerously close to busting.
“What did you say your name was?” he asks, interrupting my mental cataloging.
I clear my throat. “I didn’t.”
His eyes twinkle behind his mask, and one eyebrow arches up over the top of it, like he’s waiting for me to say more.
I don’t, and something fiery passes through his gaze, like he’s recalibrating, but also like he respects my coyness.
I’ve never considered myself particularly coy. Most people deem me standoffish.
“What should a person call you, then?” He leans in and points at himself.
“Specifically, a person who swooped in during your time of need, at a moment when you obviously were desperate for saving from the sort of uncomfortable, prying questions well-meaning strangers tend to lob at beautiful women.”
I suck in a sharp breath. It’s been a long time since anyone offered me a compliment. TJ is smooth, I’ll give him that. I open my mouth to respond, but he holds up a hand to stop me.
“You know what? I take it back.”
My stomach gives an uncomfortable lurch. Did he decide I actually wasn’t beautiful? Or am I such poor company that he’s already going to excuse himself from the conversation before it’s even begun? That’s not so good for a girl’s ego.
“Take what back?”
“You don’t look like the kind of woman who needs saving.”
I tip my head to the side. If he only knew the mess I’ve made of my life, he would take that back … again.
“Mostly I was looking for an excuse to talk to you,” he admits with an adorably boyish shrug.
There’s something refreshing about TJ’s openness.
I don’t know him at all, but I’m drawn to the uninhibited way he’s carrying on this conversation.
Even though he’s wearing a mask, it feels like he’s laying all his cards on the table.
No games. No pretenses. A straight shooter.
It makes me want to be that way in return … at least, to an extent.
“Alright then, Mr. Football Player. You’re talking. I’m talking. So can I tell you a secret?”
“Obviously, yes.”
“I didn’t come here looking for saving, but I did come here looking for something else.”
He leans in. “I’m listening.”
“I’ve got one night to have fun. To not think about who I am when I take this mask off.
I need to pack a lot of experiences into the next”—I check the giant clock that hangs on one side of the Atrium—“two hours. I need to come away from tonight with inspiration that’ll last me a lifetime. Think you can help me with that?”
“Oh. I am definitely your man.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I fire back.
TJ’s eyes twinkle beneath his mask. “I like a challenge.”
“Good. I just have one simple rule.”
“Name it.”
“No personal questions allowed.”
I’m pretty proud of myself for coming up with that one on the spot. It feels like a good safeguard to have in place. TJ crosses his arms over his chest. I wait for the fabric to rip, because he’s really testing the limits with those muscles.
“You in, or not?” I say it so boldly I can hardly believe myself. I do not talk to men like this. I do not talk to anyone like this. I’m not direct. Except I guess tonight, I am.
“Oh, I am absolutely in.” He reaches forward and collects my right hand, bringing my knuckles to his lips, holding my gaze as he lingers over the kiss for an extra second before shooting me a grin and tugging me toward the staircase I descended earlier. “Let’s go.”