Chapter 9
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Luna
After the restaurant and that whole incident with Roman Borisov and that brute, I couldn't sleep all night. That man is something...irritating. I don't know how Roxy could be so friendly with him. Was I the only one who saw that gleam in his eyes when he hit that guy? Or how clearly irritated he was when I refused to play along and talk like we were on a date?
I know his type. They have money and think every woman will fall at their feet because they're attractive and have that ease in carrying a conversation.
Maybe if I hadn't been through hell, I might've fallen for his charm. But I know better now - I can see the warning signs. This man isn't just some bored CEO in an expensive suit. The way his mask slipped when I insisted on keeping things professional...those weren't just teeth he showed me, they were fangs.
Roxy thinks I'm paranoid, seeing danger in every shadow. But there's something about Roman Borisov that sets off all my alarms. Though I'll admit - watching him take down that creep at the bar...it did something to me. When you've spent so long fighting your own battles, someone stepping up to protect you? It feels like rain after a drought.
But not Roman Borisov, Luna.
My phone's chime informs me I have a new email, and when I open it, it's Finn letting us know that in two days we need to officially go to the new headquarters for a party organized to celebrate the acquisition.
The downside to this whole acquisition is that I'll be required to go to the office several times a week, but I know that's not the real problem. You are.
I know I'm responsible for this fear of leaving my home daily, but I can't always cling to remote jobs, so this will be the first step. Trying to go out weekly for work.
I haven't been to a party in so long that the thought of being in a crowd turns my stomach inside out, but attendance is mandatory, and besides, I want to be there for Gregory. I know his dream came true, and I can only be happy for him.
Although, if I factor in the chances of running into my boss, maybe I could celebrate from a distance. But no, I won't let that impossibly irritating man stop me from going to the party.
Impossibly gorgeous, you mean, whispers that traitorous voice I'm trying to silence. Of course the first guy to make my pulse race in ages would come with more red flags than a parade.
I call Roxy in desperation, and she immediately floods my phone with links to party dresses. When she realizes nothing will ship in time, she declares she's coming over with options. Because that's what best friends do.
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"You know it wasn't necessary to come, right?" I ask while looking at the short dress with gold sequins.
"Are you kidding? You're going to a party after so long, I need to make sure you look absolutely fabulous and drive at least five men crazy," she tells me in a far too cheerful tone, but at the mere mention of men, my whole body goes on alert, and I know Roxy notices my reaction.
"Oh God, Luna, not like that. My mouth ran away with me," she says and hugs me.
I'm not a prude, but I'm terrified of getting involved with men because the last one I got close to almost threw my life out the window.
"What about the green dress?" she asks.
Roxy pulls the dress from its hanger, and I have to admit - it's stunning. The fabric feels like cashmere against my skin. Usually, I shy away from anything this fitted, but the square neckline is actually flattering. Maybe it's time to rebuild some of that confidence I lost.
The key to confidence is a dress that makes your boobs look fantastic. That is Aunt Paula's motto. Sure, she's got three ex-husbands to show for her wisdom, but the woman knows how to work a room.
“This is it,” I say, actually smiling at my reflection. “Feels right.”
“Made for you,” Roxy nods approvingly. “Goes perfect with those freckles and green eyes of yours.”
She flops onto my couch, wine glass in hand, looking perfectly at home.
“How's the event planning world treating you?” I ask, gathering up the reject pile.
"I want to throw my assistant off a building...and make sure there's no mattress below when he lands. Just to be clear," she says with a sigh, and I burst out laughing.
Roxy has always been dramatic, probably why we get along so well since I always make mountains out of molehills too.
"Give him more time, it's his first month with you," I remind her because the poor guy is the third assistant in recent months.
"Luna, he mixed up two wedding dresses. One bride nearly took my head off when she saw she got a dress three sizes too small."
"Ouch."
My face probably says it all. I imagine you want everything to go right on your wedding day, and I know Roxy. She takes any failure very personally.
"I had to run across town to fix what he did because, guess what? He wouldn't answer his phone."
I see her huff and notice her dark circles.
Not bigger than yours, relax.
"Remind me again why we're not on a Greek island being served gyros and ouzo like tourists?" I ask jokingly to lift her spirits.
We both need some humor in our lives, and that's always been the bridge connecting us. The way we can make jokes even on the darkest days.
"Because we're idiots. We said we wanted to be independent career women. Please find me a rich Prince Charming. And make him look like Henry Cavill. I won't accept anything below this standard," she tells me, laughing.
"Hold on, let me call him and see if he's interested. Should I ask when to set the wedding?" I say, sinking into the couch beside her. "But weren't you with Stiles?" I add, slightly confused because even though my head's a mess, I'm sure she hasn't mentioned any breakup.
"Ooh, I closed that chapter. Sealed it with industrial-strength glue to keep it shut," she answers, and I know she sees my puzzled look. "He cheated. Two days before our three-month anniversary. If you can't go three months without landing in another woman's vagina, no thanks. She can keep him. Hope she gives him syphilis."
God help anyone who ends up on Roxy's bad side. I'm convinced this woman sleeps with a spell book next to her.
"Roxy, I'm sorry." Because I know that, just like for me, jokes are a way to hide when something hurts her.
Maybe she wasn't head over heels for Stiles, but Roxy puts her heart into everything she does, and if it doesn't turn out perfect, she tears herself up inside.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, feeling guilty that she kept this to herself, even if just for a few days.
"Because I know how your last relationship went, and I didn't want to confirm that men are trash."
I look at her and see the compassion in her eyes. Because although she's crazy in many ways, my best friend has a heart as big as the North Avenue Bridge.
"But hey, single life is full of opportunities. What's meant for me will come," she tells me, and suddenly I hear my mom, who always said ‘ What's meant for you is set aside ,’ but looking back at everything that's happened to me, it seems the universe lost my package and then got amnesia.
I just hope that, for Roxy, the courier at least has the right phone number.