Chapter 2 #2
On the seventh deck they stepped into the central atrium, a soaring three‐story space of polished brass, pale stone, and gleaming glass.
Northstar banners draped from the upper railings, and waiters in crisp uniforms wove through the crowd with trays of cocktails tinted a vivid tropical blue.
Lucy selected one partly because it had a sprig of pineapple leaf and partly because she was curious how a company could make a drink that looked more like pool water than anything you’d want to swallow.
Adam was intercepted by a cluster of senior managers before he could sip anything.
His hand slipped from hers, and he was already in discussion—pirouetting around terms like “synergies” and “operational excellence” with the easy gravitas that came from years of keynote speeches.
Lucy watched him, knowing how these events worked: he belonged to the room before he belonged to her.
She scanned the perimeter, expecting Karina to materialize and guide her to the least lethal wine selection of the evening. Karina usually knew everyone by face and half their life stories; she’d steer Lucy politely away from any looming conversational landmines.
But Karina was preoccupied, not with conversation but with a tower of name badges at the registration desk. Steven stood beside her, offering moral support with a patient, slightly exasperated smile.
A woman with short red hair drifted toward Lucy, badge glinting under the atrium lights: MELISSA TRAN—CLIENT STRATEGY. Lucy recognized her face from the December Christmas party, though then they had both juggled plates and failed to exchange more than a quick, awkward hello.
“Lucy?” Melissa asked, smooth and confident.
“Yes,” Lucy said with a smile. “We met in December.”
Melissa glanced toward Adam, who was illustrating an invisible graph midair for three enraptured listeners. “You’re Adam’s sister, right?”
Her words hit Lucy like an unexpected wave. She felt the smile freeze, heard her own heartbeat thump against her eardrums. Sister. The term closed around her like a taut noose, tightening with each breath.
“I’m his fiancée,” Lucy corrected softly, lifting her left hand so the diamond on her ring finger caught the light.
She saw Melissa’s gaze flick quickly from ring to Karina—which was standing only a few feet away—and back again.
That first glance, the one toward Karina, was enough to push the card’s careless absurdity back into sharp relief. Lucy’s throat went dry for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” Melissa said, face coloring. “I thought Karina—” She faltered, then lowered her voice. “I thought she was his fiancée. People joke about her being his ‘work wife’, and when I heard about an engagement announcement, I… I guess I just assumed.”
Lucy nodded, blinking to clear her vision. She’d have preferred to ask what announcement, who circulated it, but Adam reappeared beside her, bearing two glasses of crisp white wine.
“I found the good stuff,” he said, offering one glass to Lucy and nodding toward the blue drink. “Don’t consume anything that color. I learned that at a conference in Vegas.”
Melissa laughed too quickly, a nervous sound. “We were just catching up,” Melissa explained.
“Melissa runs the Everwell account,” Adam chipped in for Lucy’s benefit, draping a protective arm around her waist. “She also saved my life in Denver by discovering the hotel kitchen would make grilled cheese after midnight.”
“That’s client strategy these days,” Melissa said, half‐smiling. She excused herself soon afterward, leaving behind two wine glasses and a conversation Lucy never got to finish. Adam watched her go.
“Did you two catch up?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Kind of,” Lucy said, setting down her wine. She glanced around the atrium, at Karina at the badge desk, at Steven chatting amicably with nearby guests, and back at Adam. “Melissa thought Karina was your fiancée, too.”
He knit his brows. “Why would anyone think that?”
“Melissa mentioned an engagement announcement went around,” Lucy said. “It sounds like it wasn’t clear.”
Adam sipped his wine, eyes thoughtful. “Someone made an assumption and people repeated it. That’s how office gossip works.”
“So you’d never heard anything about it?” Lucy’s voice had an edge she couldn’t hide, a quiet sting of jealousy she hadn’t anticipated.
“No,” he said firmly. “If I’d known, I would have corrected it.”
He drew her closer, bracketed her with one arm. The brass railings and gleaming floors melted away, leaving just the two of them suspended in a bubble of warmth. “Women at my company know who you are,” he said, voice low. “They know I’m engaged.”
“But do they know who you’re engaged to?” she challenged gently, raising her glass in mock toast.
He kissed her temple. “It doesn’t matter, I know exactly who I’m engaged to.”
Lucy put her glass to her lips and tasted crisp apple. Then Karina approached, guiding Lucy and Adam toward the dining room. The place cards were already set, white rectangles folding into tented triangles.
Lucy found her name at table twelve. She picked it up and read the elegant script: Lucy Brooks. Beside her, Steven’s card bore the same table number. “Oh,” she said with surprise. “I guess we’re not sitting together.”
Adam slid past her, returning with another name card in hand.
He tapped it lightly against his palm, then strode to the front of the dining room.
At the head table, executives were already gathering.
He whispered two words to the chief operating officer, snatched Martin Gow’s place card, and brought both cards back.
“Problem solved,” he announced, handing Martin’s card to Steven, whose eyebrows shot up. “Martin loves new conversations.”
Steven laughed, reading the bold letters: MARTIN GOW—CHIEF OPERATING OFFICER.
Karina chuckled, though her gaze lingered on the head table. “You can’t just rearrange the board at the first dinner, Adam.”
“Watch me,” he said, slipping Lucy’s card next to his own, and then placing Karina’s card at the empty seat on Lucy’s other side. “There. My soon-to-be-wife-wife and my work-wife can finally duke it out over my calendar.”
A few nearby diners chuckled. Lucy laughed too, relief flooding through her. But as she sat, she noticed the woman across from her lean close to her husband and whisper behind her hand. The husband glanced from Lucy to Karina, confusion and surprise knitting his brows.
Lucy’s smile faltered for an instant at the edges. Then she smoothed her napkin onto her lap and took a steadying sip of white wine.