A communal sigh of relief follows; Taylor leads the pack with a relieved, “Thank you, Matty and Lucy.”
Lucy visibly recoils from the praise, her issues with Taylor are no secret to me. But she needs to work on that.
I swear, sometimes this team could give a kindergarten class a run for their money. The sales and marketing crew understand the dynamics of healthy competition. But the IT team? They’d snicker at the sight of a well-pressed shirt. A year ago, I nearly gave them all the boot.
“There’s a charity event I need to attend tonight in New York,” I begin. “It’s hosted by a big client, an airline tycoon. With that in mind, I want one of you to attend with me.”
Lucy’s gaze dives toward the safety of her notepad.
“I’m happy to represent the team, JP,” Taylor chimes in, all smiles.
But I have other plans. “Actually, I’ve got Lucy in mind for this one.”
Taylor’s smile slams into a brick wall.
Lucy’s head jerks up, eyes wide. She looks like I just asked her to attend a satanic ritual.
“What?” she blurts. “I can’t go. I have designs to finalize.”
My jaw sets, muscles straining. “I’m giving you a reprieve. The team won’t work tonight. Plus, Andy thinks you need to work on networking. Here’s your chance.”
Her eyes flash. “I wasn’t aware the partners got a say in our personal evaluations.”
What’s she playing at?
“In my company, everything falls under my purview,” I reply sharply.
A tense silence descends over the room. No one dares speak or even glance our way.
Lucy’s throat bobs as she swallows hard.
“Lucy,” Taylor murmurs. “If JP needs you, you should go.”
Lucy’s jaw juts out. “I don’t have anything appropriate to wear.”
“That’ll be taken care of,” I assure her, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ll have a dress sent over.”
“I really don’t think I’m the right choice. Taylor should go.”
“This isn’t a negotiation, Lucy. Be ready by six thirty.” The words snap from my mouth, sharper than I intended, but my patience is fraying at the edges.
Without another word, I stride off, leaving them in stunned silence. Somehow, I’ve made things worse. Now, that’s a skill.
Lucy
The rest of the day is swallowed by an excited flurry of activity, as Matty and I hone the edges of our designs. But looming over it all is Wolfe’s infuriating demand for my company at his grand soiree tonight.
The idea of spending the entire night with that insufferable, arrogant guy? My heart’s pounding like I’ve hoovered up a kilo of cocaine.
Taylor finally calls it quits, and the room bursts into cheers. It’s five thirty. The clock’s ticking, and I have a measly few hours to transform from hackathon-frump to charity-ball-babe.
We stand, our hands weighed down with Post-its and papers scribbled with our game plan for tomorrow.
The team’s heading out for drinks on the lawn-that sounds far less anxiety-inducing than playing arm candy for Wolfe.
Why on earth does he want me there tonight? He could have any type of professional model he wanted. Leggy, skinny, curvy, blonde, brown, redhead…
Am I meant to be his assistant? Or maybe he just needs a cocktail caddy? I still don’t have a clue what he expects of me tonight.
I can’t see how I’m going to make scintillating talk with big shots. If conversation’s what he’s looking for, I can’t relate to billionaire woes like which race car to buy next or the tribulations of being a CEO. Poor lambs.
This already has “monumentally bad fucking idea” written all over it in pulsing neon lights.
“I’ll keep my distance from the bedroom.” Matty flashes me a cheeky grin. “You must have critical feminine rituals to attend to, like shaving your legs.”
“Hilarious,” I shoot back, rolling my eyes as we head inside. But honestly, he’s not wrong. I’ve got a mountain of primping to do.
“And try not to provoke the beast tonight, Luce. You should’ve just wagged your tail and said, ‘Yes, sir, three bags full, sir.'”
“He just wants to show us who’s in control,” I snap, neatly piling the papers. I brush a strand of hair from my eyes. “The guy’s a jerk. Taylor is the one who wants to go, not me.”
His smirk widens. “Oh, don’t you?”
I press my lips together, refusing to rise to his innuendos, but I can feel myself blushing. I should have kept my mouth shut about the kiss.
“I hate going to company events.”
“It’s a charity event, not a company event.”
“Yeah, but I’m representing the company. I’ll be on edge. What if I make a fool of myself in front of someone important, with Wolfe watching?”
“Sadly, princess”-Matty grins-“you’ll have to suck it up. We’re scoring fat bonuses this week; we’re basically at the company’s-and his-mercy. People go to these shindigs all the time. That’s the game.”
“But I work in the back-office! That’s not my job.”
“Taylor does it, though.”
My eyes drift to Taylor, brows furrowed as she scribbles frantically in her notebook. I can’t recall a moment when she was relaxed during this trip.
Maybe Matty’s got a point. Maybe I should seize this as an opportunity to impress Wolfe by charming the hotel high rollers. He might see me as a diligent employee, not just a random makeout sesh in the hallway.
When I open the bedroom door, there are three suspiciously fancy black boxes on my bed with a note on top. Definitely not your average Amazon delivery.
“Dress code: Black-tie,” the note reads. “The dress, shoes, and necklace should fit. JP.”
What the hell? Does JP moonlight as a tailor or something? Or can he guesstimate my measurements by eyeballing me with those brooding eyes? That seems plausible, given his reputation. But how did he magic this up so quickly?
My hands shake slightly as I approach the largest box and… holy shit.
This is by far the most exquisite evening gown I’ve ever seen. Blue, the shade of royalty.
Delicately, I lift the dress and hold it against me. This is class on a whole new level, a serious upgrade from my usual “it has pockets” dress. Perfect cut, off-shoulder, cinched waist, gentle flare… so classy, so intimidating.
The second box unveils a pair of sleek, strappy high heels that could probably double as deadly weapons.
And in the third…
This necklace. My God, this necklace.
Please tell me those aren’t actual diamonds.
I’m floored. All this for a work event?
This doesn’t feel like the getup a graphic designer would don for an outing with her boss. What role am I playing tonight?